tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16619454400222738972024-03-05T14:42:55.604-05:00Diary of a Broke Ass WomanFormerly known as the Diary of a Broke Bitch. Changed it because using the "B-word" to describe myself was a little TOO gangsta for me. At first, I decided to blog on how I dealt with life, debt, and bankruptcy after my business closed. That's all behind me now so I'm not really BROKE anymore, but I kept the name because I thought it was cool. Just bloggin' about being grown and sexy and everything that comes with that. It's just entertainment folks...Eyes On The Prize (eyesOTP)http://www.blogger.com/profile/15947789188975040591noreply@blogger.comBlogger180125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1661945440022273897.post-72663464188488360902019-06-16T22:59:00.001-04:002019-06-19T04:35:41.543-04:00YOU KNOW ITS OVER WHEN HE SAYS....<style>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;">It has been a while
since I have been out here unpacking my shit for anyone to read.</span><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;">I have totally regretted not blogging because
in a way it was kinda therapeutic.</span><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;">I
started telling my tales to the universe many years ago because it was too much
in my brain at the time.</span><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;">I was going
thru bankruptcy and extreme brokenness, and I was sadder than I had ever really
been in my life.</span><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;">I started the blog to
help me get thru some thangs.</span><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;">Back then
had time to write because my life was a bit slower, mainly because I had this
brainless job where I could blog during the day.</span><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;">Then after I got this new career and a
long-term boyfriend, I took an unexpected hiatus from the blog.</span><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;">I really wanted to get back to writing but I
just couldn't pull it off.</span><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;">I was just
managing too much.</span><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;">It was like I had a
child when I got into this relationship, and apparently, I am not good with grown ass kids. It also seems that I don't have the ability to be a good girlfriend.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So now I am back. Mainly because today was so freaking epic and
shitty, that I had to sit down and unload this weight. Today is my own Juneteenth, as it marks the beginning of <span style="color: red;"><b>MY
NEW NORMAL</b></span>.<span style="color: black;"> </span>My seven-year relationship
is dead, and I have a mix of feelings about it.<span style="color: black;">
</span>I am sad, relieved, insulted, and disappointed....all at the same
time.<span style="color: black;"> So </span>instead of cutting off my hair (yet), I am contemplating changing the name of this blog to mark a new beginning. I was thinking of changing the name to the <i style="color: black;">Diary of a Confused Woman,</i> or to
the <i style="color: black;">Diary of a Fucked-Up Woman</i>.<span style="color: black;"> Then I said to myself, m</span>aybe I
am still a Broke-Ass Woman, except now it's not related to money.<span style="color: black;"> </span>It's related to a lack of morals, respect for
others, and me being a weenie punk for allowing people to do the shyt they do to me. </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbwhypJT2MOBZNA8ReGkawG_d1nm7wDTFATt2e-ldjBrYpzrz8WHQznBZ_tpI7Cwo50L7wNgE3feMOZPCGmpcRm_SUagnh4vYrNEATn84ECVpIOdmjBymkPYLoQrRfA73jmznQ4RJnf2A/s1600/whats-love.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="312" data-original-width="820" height="121" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbwhypJT2MOBZNA8ReGkawG_d1nm7wDTFATt2e-ldjBrYpzrz8WHQznBZ_tpI7Cwo50L7wNgE3feMOZPCGmpcRm_SUagnh4vYrNEATn84ECVpIOdmjBymkPYLoQrRfA73jmznQ4RJnf2A/s320/whats-love.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 10.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">When all of these traits intersect, the end result is an epic mess. </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">The culmination of it all happened </span><b style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"><u>tonight when my boyfriend told me to get the fuck out of his apartment.</u></b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> Even though I was
starting to head to the door anyway, he wanted to be in
control by sprinkling some disrespect on my exit.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">He hollered GTFO as he slammed the door behind me.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">HARD.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><br />
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<i style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">Seven years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just like that.</i><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">As I drove back to my
apartment, I kept the radio off and rolled up the windows to keep the din of
the NYC evening out.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">I only heard the
tires hitting the uneven streets as I silently blamed myself for the deterioration
of my relationship.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">Mister and I have
had many arguments, but today I know was THE END.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">I was so certain about it that I even blocked
his number.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">When a man tells you to get
the fuck out, that means to get the fuck out of his life too.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">At least for me anyway. You get one time to talk to me like that. ONE.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">I will admit though that a
majority of why his head is fucked up is my fault.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">Even though I was falsely accused today, I do
know that I had a big hand in his insecurity and paranoia.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">
</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">It is too much to write in one post, and I have to unload this in
succinct parts so that I don't go all over the place.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">Today's post is part one of me rewinding the
tape on my days as a so-called "girlfriend".</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">After I do this then maybe I will have more
clarity on understanding why I got this treatment tonight.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 10.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But first lemme say
this, <i>I didn't DO ANYTHING that he could prove.</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>In fact, I have <b>never been CAUGHT </b>doing anything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet I was accused of side activities because
he saw some dirt on my dress?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I kid you not. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: 10.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: black; font-size: 10.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"You're lying!" he hollered, "You went somewhere
else."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: 10.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: black; font-size: 10.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Then he asked to see my
phone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I refused.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Because although I ain't dealing with nobody on a relationship or
emotional tip, I do have some male friends that I may say hello to here or
there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Not like a "Hello Mr. Penis..." kind of hello, but a hello like "What's up homey? How is life?" </span>These dudes don't even live in the state
or anywhere near me, but these are people that I knew wayyyyy before
Mister.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I keep telling Mister that ain't
nobody checking for me like that no mo', but yet we keep having these same
conversations about me and other dudes!!??? I am no longer a PYT, don't you see???<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> So at my age d</span>o you really expect me to stop talking to people I knew BEFORE you became my man?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm sorry but I think
that is ridiculous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe some don't
think this way, but I do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 10.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Let's start with
today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Today is Father's Day and I
bought some tickets to take Mister to see a comedy show.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The plans got ruined because, on the way to
the show, I realized that the tickets were for LAST NIGHT and not TONIGHT.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I lost $200. Of course I was bummed about it,
but what was interesting is that Mister never said sorry or tried to console
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know he was disappointed too, and
he stayed stoic and annoyed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I mean what
could I say?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I screwed up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If the scene was flipped I would have been
more supportive though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would have probably
given him half of the money back too (typical punk shyt that I do).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">Plan B was to get something to eat, but there
were so many people out in Brooklyn today and we couldn't find a parking
spot.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">Eventually, I said let's just pick
something up to eat and go back to his place.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">
</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">As we got out of the car to go into the restaurant, Mister noticed some
stains on my light gray dress.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">I don't
have a period anymore after my surgery, so I know it wasn't THAT.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">I was surprised myself but tried to play it
cool so that everyone wouldn't start staring.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">
</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">I told him that the dress was a little wet when I got in the car, so
maybe it picked up the dirt from the car seat.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">
</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">I mean no woman wants to hear that they have a stain on their dress, but
I couldn't understand why he was interrogating me about it.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">Instead, he just keeps asking, "Well how
did the dirt get on your dress?"</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">
</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">Over and over and over.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">I asked
myself, "Does he think I shit on myself or what?</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">What the hell is going on?"</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">I asked him for his shirt to tie around me,
and he acted like he didn't want to give it to me at first.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">After some back and forth, he eventually gave
me the shirt and I walked back to his place.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">
</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">I washed out the stain but decided to leave instead of eating the
food.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">First, you give me no sympathy
because I lost $200, and now you interrogate me in the middle of the street
about a stain on my dress?</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">Nah.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">That was it for me.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">When he came back to the apartment with the
food the argument started.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">He told me I
was lying about how I got the stain.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">As
he yelled about his crazy theory about the dirt on the dress, I knew our
situation was hopeless.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> The look in his eyes was frantic and crazed. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">I told him he
was wrong and I went thru every minute of my day with him.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">Then he said that he would apologize if I let
him see my phone.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">I calmly said no because </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">I already knew it would have made zero difference. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">I said no because ANY dude I speak to will
be a problem for him.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">Family
friends.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">High school friends.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">Especially this ex-boyfriend I have that now
lives in Mexico for good.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">
</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">I knew him long before Mister and he is my friend.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> He is a non-muthafuccin' factor, and I have told Mister that REPEATEDLY for the past seven years. But yet, he still brings him up. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 10.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span><span style="color: black; font-size: 10.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A</span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">gain I have never been
caught messing with any other dude.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">It's
all about this phone shit.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">He gets mad
if I am on Facebook.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">He gets mad if I
don't post pics of him on Facebook.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">He
gets mad if I don't call him right out of work and tell him I am going to meet
friends.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">Even today, I made a plan to
see some friends for brunch and he got mad at that.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">Why?</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">
</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">Because it is Father's Day and I was supposed to make the day about him
and me?</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">What the hell?</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">You got a 19-year old daughter and that kind
of complaint you should be taking up with her.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">
</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">My dad ain't even alive to take anywhere.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">Who says I have to treat you to a Father's
Day anything?</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> Just ridiculous. I always felt that he would show his ass if we ever broke up, and today he proved me right.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 10.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Maybe I made him
crazy?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am too independent and no man
will ever be my sun, moon, stars, and quasars.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I told him long ago he needed someone who wants a man to be her purpose
in life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I ain’t never been that kinda
chick.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also said I ain’t interested in
fkn dudes like that anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> STRAIGHT UP. I am good without dyck lately. In fact, m</span>y $13
dollar Calexics bullet does me just fine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It don’t sweat on you, pound on you like a gorilla, and I ain’t gotta try to go pee foreign fluids out after it’s done and over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 10.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Anyway man. Like I said,
today marked the beginning of my new normal. And I got a LOT of unpacking to do. Seven years was a long time.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 10.5pt;">As for the new blog name? I think I got it now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How does <i>"Diary of a So-Called Girlfriend" </i>sound?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 10.5pt;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 10.5pt;">Yeah…I think that might be a
winner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 10pt;"></span></span></div>
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<br />Eyes On The Prize (eyesOTP)http://www.blogger.com/profile/15947789188975040591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1661945440022273897.post-10544964568554822102018-03-08T17:16:00.003-05:002018-03-09T08:04:01.822-05:00GETTING COINS, STACKING CHIPS, and MAKING SHMONEY<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Before I get to the topic
at hand, I first want to say that in celebration of International Women’s Day,
I finally waxed my coochie after like five months. It was so out control
that when the gal looked at it she was kinda speechless. That’s a pretty
bad reaction seeing that her JOB is looking at hairy coochies and men's ball
sacs for a living (it's a rainbow friendly salon). Anyway the situation
was handled (painfully) and I treated myself to a lovely lunch at Panera Bread
to celebrate. Damn I forgot to ask if she saw any gray hairs, but who
cares! They is gone now!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14.0pt;">"IT'S NOT GRAY HAIR
GIRL, IT'S PLATINUM HIGHLIGHTS"</span></i></b><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica";"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><br /></span></span>
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPBPM7OLrkTZeBfz0ddjDuBCeRPcKjpxRBGd-3spoqSOpP-qpYbzqoiGjtbABznBMwoAGE9P0aKWtzgeTZryibgar4T-Exb4X6zXgMbllIhkBkE8TBEuCDBPpuF5sfFx9Be96VPP-xUpk/s1600/black-girl-400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" data-original-height="412" data-original-width="550" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPBPM7OLrkTZeBfz0ddjDuBCeRPcKjpxRBGd-3spoqSOpP-qpYbzqoiGjtbABznBMwoAGE9P0aKWtzgeTZryibgar4T-Exb4X6zXgMbllIhkBkE8TBEuCDBPpuF5sfFx9Be96VPP-xUpk/s320/black-girl-400.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14pt;"></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Anyhow
taking care of the bush was not the only thing that I have been
neglecting. I have thought about this blog just as much as I thought
about getting a wax. Which was almost every time I got
naked. </span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14.0pt;">NYC life was just getting
in the way. When I logged in I was scared to even look at my
follower's list out of fear that it had dwindled down to
nothing. Although the list hasn’t really grown a lot, it is still
about the same so that is okay with me seeing that I have been sooooo
raggedy. Even though there are barely two-fiddy followers on my
Blogger roll, it appears that some folk MIGHT be still interested in what I
have (or had) to say!! So thanks y’all for still riding with me. I
also truly thank my pal over at Black Girls Are Easy for the redirects
too. I need you baby!!! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Me and this blog are like a
couple that keeps breaking up and gettin back together. But every time I
do come back after a long hiatus, I feel like I need to explain what I have
been doing for alla this time. Since it has been almost foevahhhhhh
since I last posted, I will just summarize things into bullet points to make it
easier on myself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14.0pt;">I have been….<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "helvetica";"><br /></span>
<br />
<ul>
<li style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "helvetica";">Working and apparently pissing people off; quitting
jobs over things like bias, favorites, and jobs fucking with me
general. </span></li>
<li style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "helvetica";">Becoming
a major wig addict and not giving a rat’s azz what anyone says about it</span></li>
<li style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "helvetica";">Talking
a lot</span></li>
<li style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "helvetica";">Traveling</span></li>
<li style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "helvetica";">Dealing
with annoying girl body problems</span></li>
<li style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "helvetica";">Thinking
about breaking up with the dude and finally doing it</span></li>
<li style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "helvetica";">Thinking
about dating women but wondering if that will be just a different headache</span></li>
<li style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "helvetica";">Appreciating
the hell out of my ‘toy’ because it doesn’t require any conversation,
obligation, or vaginal pain</span></li>
<li style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "helvetica";">Trying
to get along with my mother, but realizing that it ain’t gonna happen unless I
win the lotto and pay her off</span></li>
</ul>
<span style="color: black; font-family: "helvetica";"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">OK that’s all I'm gonna say on that. Not really fascinating stuff
except maybe about the toy, which unfortunately is wearing out on me
dammit. Time to reorder.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Now getting back to the
post…“GETTING COINS, STACKING CHIPS, and MAKING SHMONEY”?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Whatever words people use
to describe how they get their money, we all know that people will do and put
up with almost anything to get it. Since my money situation is a
lil’ bit better now, I feel that I don’t have that mindset anymore. In
the past couple years I have walked away from a few decent paying temp jobs,
but that was solely because the management were assholes and I didn't feel like
dealing with it. Since I'm older now there is only so much ish I can
put up with. I'm like that like in the Three Billboards movie. When
I stop giving a fluck there is no fixing it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><br />
</span><i><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14.0pt;">*singing*</span></i><span style="color: black; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><br />
I don't give a fuck, I don't give a fuck</span></i><span style="color: black; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14.0pt;">I don't
I don't I don't give a fuck</span></i><i><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><br />
<span style="background: white;">Bitch, I don't give a fuck about you or anything
that you do</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">Don't give a fuck about you or anything that you
do</span></span></i><span style="color: black; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14.0pt;">But the way people around
me talk about money though, I’m starting to wonder if I am I weird
because <i><u>I don’t seem to go that hard for money like they do.</u></i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="color: red; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Yo like am I a dummy for
quitting jobs that have been unfair and shitty to me, even though I am being
paid well? </span></i><span style="color: black; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="color: red; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Should I have stayed and
stacked paper anyway, and let it pass that they were undermining me and making
me look like shit?</span></i><span style="color: black; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14.0pt;">It’s kinda messed up that I
am even questioning myself about this, but it has been heavy on my
mind. I play Russian Roulette with sooo many jobs and it's kinda
gotten to a point that its becoming questionable. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><br />
Although I was brought into this world without having any say about it, I feel
forced to live embody this mindset that society says I am supposed to “have”
which is to work, make money, have kids, retire, and die. But
if I choose to live for different reasons why is it sooooo hard for folks to
comprehend that? It seems that the more I express how I feel to
others, the more isolated I become. I either get these strange
looks, or the person just starts talking about making money again as if I what
I said didn’t register in their brain. One psycho coworker even told
me once that something was wrong with me because I didn’t want to make as much
money as possible. Say what??? Of course I want to make money,
but I don’t wanna work 70 and 80 hours a damn week for it!!
Especially if I have to put up with mental frustration, bias, favoritism,
and other types of work environment bullshyt. I don’t put up with
work nonsense for too long because I know from experience that once people
think they can treat you any kind of way ---- </span><span style="color: red; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14.0pt;">THEY.DO.NOT.STOP. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14.0pt;"> It's
like dealing with a bully except you getting a paycheck for the
abuse. You can try to fly under the radar all you want, but once
they put you in the BOX you stay in that BOX. Ain't no getting out.
So because I don’t allow myself to be treated like shit for paychecks, I rather
quit than have a mofo keep fuggin’ with me at work. For real.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
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</div>
<br />
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<span style="color: red; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14.0pt;">So does this mean I am weird?</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Although my temp jobs can
pay pretty well (“sometimes”), they tend to attract a LOT of money-focused
people. These people are mostly snakes, assholes, and no integrity-having
bastards. And just like in school, these punks fck up the curve for everyone
else. Because the work is often productivity based, these snakes stay
cheatin' and doing poor work to keep their numbers high, while the QUALITY
oriented people (like myself) get the constant side-eye, are micro-managed, or
have to constantly explain their numbers. It’s like the Wolf of Wall
Street movie, and these people get praised and celebrated for their big fake
ass numbers! Funny thing is that most times after the snakes have made a
boatload of money and are long gone from the project, their work gets audited
and is found to be horrible, half done, or a goddamn mess. Because everything
is about money and numbers, it breeds an environment of evil and
corruption. At times I feel surrounded by people who have no soul and are
living pieces of shyt --- especially these attorney mothafuccas.
Even their friends are pieces of shit too. It’s stifling. But yet
these snakes stay winning to the point that I have come to believe that
integrity counts for shit at most jobs. These jobs don<span style="background: white;">'t<b> seem to give a fuck about your good
intentions or quality work. NOT AT ALL. </b>At least in the financial world.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14.0pt;">I know money makes the
world go ‘round, and in no way am I rich. Hell I dream about winning
the lottery just like most people. But I have to ask, what is life
really about? Is this why I was brought here, to work and stress for
coins? Is this why we have babies? To have them grow up
and continue a legacy of a miserable existence of bill paying and
commuting? To so get old from chasing paper until their body is so
twisted and used up that they can’t even enjoy it? THIS IS NOT
LIFE. At least not to me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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After saying all of this, I do realize however that I can only control
me. So I seriously have to ask myself, "Do I keep running
away from the bullshit, or do I take the easy street and follow the others who
seem to stay winning?" <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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So why is it weird when I say that I choose me? If I feel like you’re shittin’
on me for pleasure or being unfair to me -- I’m out. Period.
Is that so wrong? People can call it silly or stupid if they want; I just
feel that is exercising my freedom to choose my situation. Like I
told one employer once, I am not lucky to have their job. We are
lucky to have each other. I do my best work and you pay me for it,
so it ain’t no damn charity happening. Therefore don’t ever feel
that you’re doing me some big favor by giving me a job. I can get a
paycheck from somewhere else. Even if the pay is lower, at least I’m
not around you or helping your azz anymore. I OWN ME, and if
that's being weird then so be it. <i>I’m gonna be dead a long
time </i>so why not live my life now? If moving on from these shit
show jobs is a way of being in control of my freedom then I'm fine with
that. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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As for the coworkers who live in fear and wanna talk about money all the time,
I’ll just start keeping my opinions to myself because I already know that the
conversation will go nowhere. We are just on different wavelengths
and we just don’t mesh on this particular subject. I simply have to
stop getting annoyed at these people and keep it movin’. I am a work
in progress...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Main thing is I just don’t
want to be a slave to anything I guess…a job, money, bills or a man. I
just wanna be free.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Eyes On The Prize (eyesOTP)http://www.blogger.com/profile/15947789188975040591noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1661945440022273897.post-7814150579278235242016-06-21T20:32:00.001-04:002016-06-23T20:53:16.581-04:00CRAZY LADY DOES IT AGAIN.<br />
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I resigned. And pissed everybody at the FT job off. Then later that day we have a meeting at the money-making job and its gonna be over sooner than I thought. Damn. Damn. Damn. Like on Let's Make a Deal...I chose the wrong door.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixFzC7P1E-oOJzkcRA_HzwR2OEYQSfc52touZmO4KrZZe5s8KEe2GbDa-fAYt_mxEKLVDzQmW8-Nf2xPBpmENcqAE0LiXiQ7gXDLh_Qx3PFWaIzAVRVyDQJqlmLOGswjQsd8rTiLZ43us/s1600/lets+make+a+deal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixFzC7P1E-oOJzkcRA_HzwR2OEYQSfc52touZmO4KrZZe5s8KEe2GbDa-fAYt_mxEKLVDzQmW8-Nf2xPBpmENcqAE0LiXiQ7gXDLh_Qx3PFWaIzAVRVyDQJqlmLOGswjQsd8rTiLZ43us/s320/lets+make+a+deal.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Like I said in the other post -- Russian Roulette. You pull the trigger and hope you don't die. Oh well...I guess I need to update my resume because the pool is about to become real damn crowded.<br />
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But it the meantime I booked a two hour session with the therapist because I read that this indecisive thing is kind of a personality disorder! <br />
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<br />Eyes On The Prize (eyesOTP)http://www.blogger.com/profile/15947789188975040591noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1661945440022273897.post-14033709723787567352016-06-20T22:11:00.005-04:002016-06-23T06:59:00.214-04:00I'M GROWN YET I'M INDECISIVE AS HELLLLLLLLL<span style="font-size: large;">I play <b>Russian Roulette</b> with jobs and I can't stop. </span><span style="font-size: large;">It's like a sickness that I can't seem to get rid of.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLl801rxE0Vkezrd0cp3yW-6fPi6WgqdHbTn0sfOh_IOcp8jlZbbhyH5PaYwybda_xMdkhtdZmxCIlBSh2wj8w4UaYZ3CTHZEEykcUP3NELCtEJQbP7gCkaU5xcf-RThRjHcTnfXK6JE8/s1600/SPICA-_-Russian-Roulette-spica-EC-8A-A4-ED-94-BC-EC-B9-B4-35638124-500-255.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="163" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLl801rxE0Vkezrd0cp3yW-6fPi6WgqdHbTn0sfOh_IOcp8jlZbbhyH5PaYwybda_xMdkhtdZmxCIlBSh2wj8w4UaYZ3CTHZEEykcUP3NELCtEJQbP7gCkaU5xcf-RThRjHcTnfXK6JE8/s320/SPICA-_-Russian-Roulette-spica-EC-8A-A4-ED-94-BC-EC-B9-B4-35638124-500-255.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">My problem is that many times I'll accept multiple job offers because I can't decide on one. I'll even have a job already and accept two others and end up fking two of them up. I just burn bridges for no damn reason instead of just 'respectfully" turning the job down. I'll either wait until one or two days before the job starts and say I can't come, or don't come at all, or I'll come there for a couple days and then not go back. Or I'll be working one job and then call off while I go and "test" out another job. I don't know what's wrong but I have become very skittish and it's wrecking my life!!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Although many may say that I am "lucky" to get these multiple job offers at one time, I don't usually "feel lucky". My thing is that I agonize over the choices. I lay awake at night thinking about it. I talk to myself in public and alone about it. I even text and call my friends asking them to "help" me decide. And even with alla this conversation, it does very little to get me towards making a decision. I just waste everybody's time and the clock just ticks away while I got people preparing for me to start working for them. It's pathetic and I don't know how to stop it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Like I'm in a situation right now...TONIGHT...and I'm sitting here on blogger talking about it instead of making a decision. Just looking for any type of way to get me to settle my mind about these two choices. Maybe someone out in Bloggerworld might have an opinion? Awww it wouldn't make any difference anyway probably. I</span><span style="font-size: large;"> need to write something on my blog page anyways because I am long overdue. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">(Screaming)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The older I get the more indecisive I am about choosing jobs. </span><span style="font-size: large;">What's wrong with me? </span><span style="font-size: large;">Is it that I don't wanna work for any of them???? The problem usually is that neither job is the perfect set up, and I don't know which way to go. So here is my current situation.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I recently took a full time job after contracting for a few years. <i>The job pays less </i>than what I was making as a contractor, but <i>it's stable and I took it to boost my resume. I</i> wasn't planning on staying at the FT gig forever so the pay cut was about me getting some health benefits for this vayjayjay operation. I'll save that for another day because I can't even decide on that surgery either. <span style="color: red;">See what I mean???? I can't decide on anything lately.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">On the other hand I have this four-week contracting job making DOUBLE what I make on a full time salary (if I worked on an hourly basis). </span><span style="font-size: large;">For many this would be a no-brainer decision right? </span><span style="font-size: large;">Not for meee! The four weeks ain't bothering me. W</span><span style="font-size: large;">hat keeps creeping up in my mind is that I could make over $15K in those four weeks! It would take me 8 weeks at the full time gig to make that same pay. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And before you say it, I already know the ups and downs of contracting. But I do it because the reward is often worth the risk. Yes contracting is unstable and risky, but making the change to it has made a world of difference in my life. Not only do the contracting jobs pay more money (I've saved $100K), but mentally it has helped me "be okay" with working for others. I also don't feel like a slave because if I get tired of something I can just move on and not be looked at as a job hopper. In my opinion these employers just want to the job done and that's it. So I like it when I can just sit in my seat, do my work, and get my check. When I'm contracting I don't have to worry about performance reviews, bullshyt raises, clock watchers, being skipped for promotions, etc.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The dilemma is that I want to still work the contract job and not have to quit it, but I can't be in two places at the same time. I asked my manager at the FT gig if I could work in the late afternoons and Saturday during the four weeks. I wasn't surprised at the response, "We can't</span><span style="font-size: large;"> because you're new and it would be a conflict of interest." </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Booooooo. Man I'm so tired of hearing that! </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">What conflict of interest? All the average employee is "interested" in is getting a paycheck and some damn benefits. Puhleeze. <i><span style="color: blue;">Miss me</span></i> with that conflict of interest stuff. I feel that a job telling me that I can't make extra money or that I need their "approval" is like putting their hands in my pockets. To me that smells like slavery.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">After that let down, I kept being the risky person that I am. Since I already put my azz out there when I asked for a schedule modification, I took it a step further </span><span style="font-size: large;">today and called out from the FT job. Instead I went to "test" the contract job to see what it was all about. The job is not bad at all! Boring though. It's good and fast money but in order to go I would have to be a runaway slave. Because M</span><span style="font-size: large;">assa FT telling me I can't work another plantation. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Sigh. So what the hell am I gonna do tomorrow morning? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<ol>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Am I calling off of the FT job two days in a row? </span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Am I quitting the FT gig and going to the contractor job?</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Am I quitting the contract job after one day and going back to safe FT?</span></li>
</ol>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I have to decide in eight hours..and so far writing this blog DID NOT HELP. These are the times that I wish I could win the lottery.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">What us gonna do? I HATE THIS SHYT.</span></div>
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Eyes On The Prize (eyesOTP)http://www.blogger.com/profile/15947789188975040591noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1661945440022273897.post-44254661013438335462015-12-01T23:30:00.004-05:002015-12-02T18:21:49.366-05:00Is This Thing On????<br />
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<i>(taps the mic)</i><br />
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Is this thing on?<br />
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I saiddddddd, is this thing on? (pause) <br />
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<i>(clears throat)</i><br />
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I'll begin by saying that I got a comment today asking where have I been and it made me feel good and bad at the same time. It's not that I haven't <i>thought </i>about the blog, it's just that I used to write more when I had this easy little desk job in Manhattan. You know...<b>"THAT JOB" </b>that I didn't want to tell anyone that I had. After shyt went to the left at that place (which I consider a disguised blessing), I bounced and changed careers altogether. Now I make almost 2.5 times more than that old job that I should not have been at six years anyway, but of course that means that it DEMANDS more time and I actually have to sit there and work. <i>just writing that disgusts me! </i>Work is always in the damn way. Always, always, always. It takes up all of my time! It has gotten so bad that somebody had to send out a virtual blogger search party out to look for me. <br />
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But don't get me wrong, it ain't like I haven't tried to write on the blog. I have all of these half baked drafts in my queue that I was once all excited to dazzle you with. In fact I have been trying and trying to take a breather so that I could do more things that I enjoy doing like writing. I even <b>left my job</b> in August to take a sabbatical for two months so that I COULD WRITE and do some entrepreneurial stuff, but no sooner than I left the job another recruiter came along and offered me more loot on another contract. Cha ching! So just like Bugs Bunny I took the dangling carrot and ended the break a month early. FOR MONEY. <br />
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And what was the result of making that decision? <br />
I stacked more cash but my blog still<span style="font-size: large;"> looks like ass. </span><br />
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"Yo, this blog looks like ass."</div>
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And get this!!! All I do is write all day! For other people. ALL.DAMN. DAY. <i>But yet I couldn't write two sentences for my own shyt?</i> That's a damn shame. I need to get my priorities in order, and working certainly ain't one of them.<br />
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So I have decided to make a pledge. Even though my current load includes studying for a six hour test, working out, taking a Spanish class, "liking"shyt on Facebook to maintain relationships, and working my 2nd <span style="font-size: large;">job</span> as girlfriend to Trinidad (sigh) --- I need to breathe some life back into this blog. Maybe that's why I feel so overwhelmed? Everything is just bottled up inside me and my fingers are itching to peck at the keyboard. <br />
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I hope I still have some Blogger friends too? Special thanks to HeyItsJermaine for checking in and zapping me with that taser. I'm awake now so thanks hunny.<br />
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Now let's see if I can deliver. Or will I go back to sleep? Place your bets people. <br />
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<i>Please note: If you see typos just know that my eyes are getting old mane! I started this blog like forever ago and my eyes are not as KEEN as they used to be. It's whack to even have to publish this statement but I might as well come clean with it.</i><br />
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<br />Eyes On The Prize (eyesOTP)http://www.blogger.com/profile/15947789188975040591noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1661945440022273897.post-46865295917254087952014-12-31T19:01:00.001-05:002014-12-31T19:11:57.744-05:0012,775 Day Rewind<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
Another year gone. Another New Year's Party. Later on....</div>
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But what's more important to me today is reflection. And to sit still and think about the hits and misses of past 365 days. So as I began to do my annual ritual, strangely my mind went further back. Waaaayyyy back. Like 12,775 days back.</div>
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I remembered jumping Double Dutch in the streets and stopping mid jump to let the cars pass...at the last minute of course.</div>
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I also remembered jumping in unison with as many as could fit inside the clothes line bought at the corner store. As we sang as loud as we could!</div>
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<i>"All in together, any kind of weather, I see the teacher, lookin' out the window, ding dong, the fire bell!!!"</i></div>
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I remembered Playing softball, touch football, and hide and go seek...at night! (Which was a really big deal.)</div>
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Playing jacks on the porch,<br />
Drawing Hopscotch boxes on the sidewalk, and playing dodgeball.</div>
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Swinging on swings. </div>
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Ponytails blowing in the wind as I rode my purple bike down asphalt hills. Breeze whipping across my face.</div>
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Patty cakes and roller skates, slip n slide, and skate boards. Plastic water guns that held about 1/2 cup of water....if that. But no one seemed to mind because it was enough to hit your target.</div>
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"Mother May I", "Simon Says", and break dancing!</div>
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And a game simply called "IT". And whatever "IT" was you ran like a fool trying to get as far away as you could.</div>
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It really was a wonderful life in those days.</div>
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And even though I am taking another step away from "those days" tonight, this morning I just felt like taking a few steps backward. Because going backward is not always a bad thing.</div>
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December 31, 2014</div>
Eyes On The Prize (eyesOTP)http://www.blogger.com/profile/15947789188975040591noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1661945440022273897.post-85753454792587919962014-08-18T21:23:00.000-04:002014-08-21T12:22:05.542-04:00Drum Roll Puhleeze<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;">
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<i><span style="color: blue;">Woman enters the library and as she passes the security guard he says, "Nice toes!"</span></i></div>
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<span style="color: blue;"><i style="font-family: Helvetica;">The </i><span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><i>woman looks down at her daintily painted yellow toes and smiles and replies "Thank you.". </i></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Helvetica;"><i>She walks up the escalator and scouts for a seat. The library is full even on a warm summer night. She plops down at a table of four and seats herself next to a young African-American brother with a hoodie and his PC. She thinks to herself, "Why does he have a hoodie on in the library in the summer?" but she dismisses the thought. As long as he doesn't look crazy she figures that she will be fine.</i></span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Helvetica;"><i>She pulls out her new purple Mac out of her bag and begins to gather her thoughts, As she starts to type, all of a sudden she smells something....</i></span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Helvetica;"><i>Sniff. Sniff.</i></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I won’t even begin this post with excuses as to why I haven’t been on here because honestly does anyone really give a fluck? LOL. I just need to fix the damn problem with my lack of appearances in cyberspace and get things done. I feel myself getting rusty so I need to write to keep my skills sharp.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">This time instead of writing about what I have not done on the blog, the only thing that I will say is that I have put writing on my weekly schedule so I can AT LEAST put my eyeball on <a href="http://blogger.com/"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">blogger.com</span></a>. So here I am on a nice summer night in the library pecking away at my computer. I feel a bit proud of myself! I've only been here about 15 minutes but there is a musty muthafucca sitting next to me wrecking my damn flow. This is the only free table with computer outlets so I’ll just try to make it work and cover my nose when he shifts in his seat. I just need to bang this post out. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">(holds breath)</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Ok here we go.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">First I will at least quickly recap the last few months to try to bring things up to date.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">NEWSFLASH!!!! Believe it or not I actually have ONE man now. Not even a backup dude to dabble in now and then. The way I had operated for years was to always have at least two dudes on the roster, but as time has passed I have slowed down with that A LOT. For one it’s too hard to manage, and number two these guys got too much shit going on with them for me to be dealing with a double dose of drama. The older they get the more rock headed they get and it is just too much! </span></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">Men get to be soooooo much work after a while. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">And what gets me is that men have the damn nerve to be talking about women of a certain age got baggage when they are honestly some big fluckin babies </span>themselves<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> They are just as sensitive as women and throw fits and tantrums like toddlers. All THEE time. Word.</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">So let's introduce my dude as Trinidad. He is pretty alright. He acts and does a lot of the things I like and he is tolerable….not perfect…but tolerable. He can be a lot of work and sensitive too…he ain’t no different than what I said earlier. I just realize that’s how men eventually turn out to be so now I just try to work with it and see where it goes. We have been dating for about 2.5 years and for me that’s some amazing shit! So let’s see how long I can keep this up. I’ll have to elaborate on dude another time because something between us is brewing. Like I said before — he ain’t perfect, and neither am I. </span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Anyway....financially things are better too. Last September I blogged that I quit a job and took a consultant temp role that was a $25k per year pay cut. It was a dice roll and some may have called me stupid, but that dice roll eventually paid off because taking that step backwards opened doors for me in a major way. I kept interviewing for something better and was getting turned down left and right, but within three months I got a new job making over six figures. So in the long run the risk paid off big time and has helped me to put almost $66,000 dollars in my savings account. Who woulda thought that I could make that happen?!!! That $66K may not be a huge amount, but seeing that in the past I barely had $200 saved this is a major achievement. Since my bankruptcy in 2010 things have gotten way better and I swear doing that was the best (and toughest) decision that I ever made. Yeah I have the ding on my credit report for a few more years but my worries about paying my bills are gone. I can save money now and my credit score has improved over 100 points since the bankruptcy. I have paid off my car a year and a half early too. Things are certainly way better now from when I first started writing DIARY OF A BROKE ASS WOMAN! For realz. And although I’ll confess that I still have my moments with spending on clothes and what not, I usually just pay the charges with a credit card and pay the balance off in the next month to keep things under control. I have my regular job and my consulting work to bring in money to help when I fall off the shopping wagon. Plus my credit limit is like $750 so I ain’t going too crazy with that anyway, and I put in my budget what I can spend on shopping each month. The $750 limit ain’t nothing special but it will do me just fine because the point of using the card is to build my credit score anyway. The website <a href="http://mint.com/"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">mint.com</span></a> tracks my spending and puts everything into categories which helps me see how my money flows.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Um, what else has been happening??? Oh yes! I had my “ cuteness surgery” late last year. Yep I did it! The first couple days after were awful but I’m happy with the results for the most part! There are things that I still have to do like stay fit and eat right but I’m looking way better than I did before (not that I was that bad in the first place). I have to get into the details later but since the surgery things have ‘shifted’ to other areas and I didn’t expect that at all! Like today when I was leaving work, somebody called me Stella. Not sure if I liked that too much just because I hate facing the reality that I am getting older, but since Angela Bassett was looking good in that movie I guess I’ll go ahead and take it as a compliment???? And even though Trinidad was against me doing the surgery, I think NOW he is happy with the end result. And how do I know this? Because I can see it in his hungry eyes. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Damn It’s good to be back writing! I see that I have about the same number of followers so I guess that’s good!? LOL…no it ain’t. The blog is stagnant. I know people were reading when I used to write about Shallow Hal and my escapades with him but since I killed them off I think folks left me. It’s not a lot left to say on that but that was like 3-4 years ago anyway and since then Shallow Hal has just worsened with age. We used to be cool but I have decided that I can’t be socializing with that donkey no mo’. For the longest time I had been smelling the disrespect coming from him, and I had to remind him way too often that I was not one of his birds. Shallow Hal is a bully and eventually made our situation rocky as hell. We had some moments where we would actually be cool, but just as he always does, he fks up stuff to a point where I finally had to block him a couple months ago. The downfall began when something that started out being joke on his asshole friend turned into a betrayal. Shallow Hal proved that he wasn’t on my team and once I saw that, it was the beginning of the end of our “friendship.” I had no loyalty to him and all we would do is argue.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Shallow Hal: “You just wanna see me hurt for something.”</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Me: LOL. “You just wanna see me hurt for something.” You so damn stupid. You deserve to "hurt for something" for all that you have done to people. Punk ass.</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">And that's from one of the light conversations. And </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">where did all of this come from? I’ll get into my post called THE JOKE next time but for now I will say this....it was a joke that both of us tried to set up. After the smoke cleared it ended up with Shallow Hal showing his ass and by that point I was DONE. He pushed me too far and THE JOKE became a mess.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">But you know what?</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">After everything that I have heard, Shallow Hal is probably right.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">I kinda do wanna see him get knocked down off his throne. And I've been thinking </span>on what I can come up with to make that happen. <br />
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"Off with his head!"<br />
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More later. I can't sit by this musty muthafucca no more!</div>
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Eyes On The Prize (eyesOTP)http://www.blogger.com/profile/15947789188975040591noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1661945440022273897.post-72539955774223932132014-06-12T11:12:00.002-04:002014-06-12T11:31:07.301-04:00Sad State of BloggismWhat a damn shame.<br />
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I think about blogging all the time but I can't seem to put the pen to the paper these past months! <br />
Yeah I'm raggedy as hell. So finally I said today lemme just try to do this from my phone to at least shake the dust off my shyt. <br />
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You know working, having a man, having business, and alla that has made me just feel so overwhelmed. Like I used to take this blog so seriously but half the time I was writing when I was at work. Now companies block the site and by the time I get home I'm done. But I have to change that. When I blogged it felt good and maybe that's what I need so I don't feel overwhelmed as much? <br />
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So many things have happened since that<br />
posting last October. I have done some dirty shyt, stupid shyt, smart shyt, as well as good money type of shyt. In addition I have been the target of unwanted shyt that I needs to get on here and talk about too. Word! <br />
There is a lot to say because It appears that I have become an exceptional liar and a somewhat vengeful individual. More later on that. People might think I'm wrong for what I did, but I just had to get him! I just had to cuz you don't talk to me like I'm one of your damn birds! Nah bruh. <br />
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More later. More later.<br />
(Grrrr) <br />
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In any case I'm here. Let's get it cracking and back to the business of blogging. <br />
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Hello World!<br />
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<br />Eyes On The Prize (eyesOTP)http://www.blogger.com/profile/15947789188975040591noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1661945440022273897.post-84998098576808933392013-10-10T21:05:00.001-04:002013-10-11T10:56:48.721-04:00Most People Will Call Me Cray...<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I am sitting in a Starbucks in Times Square. It's like 50 degrees outside but they have the air conditioner on like it's 80 damn degrees! Brrrrrr!!!!! I'm starting to sniff because I have been sitting here typing for a while now. I already bought a lukewarm hot chocolate and I ain't buying shyt else to warm up. I need cocktail money for when I go to karaoke later. Not sure if I'm sanging though. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvtf00lXpcLnuFFqzRJOb8edwyF4sJRAET6BI3FSHGgiNJDYOo9P0UHGh53TlvIVpTdcFlnU7HncTcCTvjaCGxvuACZBUtoUulGaDAZrUhTqj-Tb964xtvPKwdl-JJkzXSJqWW6GJZZ9w/s1600/CrazyLady.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvtf00lXpcLnuFFqzRJOb8edwyF4sJRAET6BI3FSHGgiNJDYOo9P0UHGh53TlvIVpTdcFlnU7HncTcCTvjaCGxvuACZBUtoUulGaDAZrUhTqj-Tb964xtvPKwdl-JJkzXSJqWW6GJZZ9w/s1600/CrazyLady.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">And to add to the frigidity in here, there's this crazy lady sitting next to me having a silent conversation with <em>SOMEBODY. </em>Her hands are moving around and she is smiling and laughing at whatever <em>SOMEBODY </em>is saying to her. But what's odd is that she hasn't uttered a sound. Not a single sound. She is just over there with her latte being silent crazy and having a good ol' time too.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">CONFESSION: This is <strong><span style="color: blue;">exactly</span></strong> the same shyt I do at home. Shhhhhh!!!! But my rants are usually just rewinds of convos that I already had that have bothered me or had me worked up. I just repeat what was said, and then add on what I WISH I WOULD HAVE SAID. I'm not having 'real time' convos with imaginary people like she is sitting here doing. Wait a minute. I must be buggin? </span><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I wrote that like my crazy convos are <em><u>more sane</u></em> than hers just because they already occurred. It's still crazy right? Real time or past time...talking to yourself regularly out loud is a little crazy. I just need to own that and stop buggin like I'm better than other crazy people. LOL. </span><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I'm sure when I get to be an old lady I will be officially cray cray, and very skilled at talking to people that had been in front of me the day before. I already see it coming. Been doing it too long to stop. Sigh. Oh well. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Anyway....</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">It has been a tumultuous summer career wise. In an earlier post, <em>"I Failed at Kissin' Ass",</em> I talked about my job that started tripping after I had worked there almost 7 years. I am not gonna go back and relive the details of that, but I finally left that joint in June. And not without scandal. The depature wasn't quiet at all and got weird. I tried my best to leave without drama and say 'safe' things during the exit interview, but it was all for nothing. That exit interview triggered a whole lot of craziness and my manager said that I betrayed him! And because he felt betrayed, he did some bogus shyt! His ass had the nerve to....</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">....ah I'll leave it for later next time.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS; font-size: x-small;"><em>(to self: I have to write about that over the weekend. It's pretty juicy. I'm gonna title it, "Don't Do Exit Interviews At A Job" or something like that. With a spicier title of course...)</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">So like I said I left the job in June. I moved on to a new job that I didn't really want because it was a job where I would have to kiss some other executive's ass. And remember I already failed at kissin ass already, so what made me think I wouldn't be expected to do that again. Reluctantly I started the new job June 3rd, and on September 3rd I stopped going. I decided to take a temporary job making $16,000 less and started the next day. Wild.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFSGSHce_o9Jh343Ga7oFUqw4Ni5Gqs1gbW9LnrrWfYDIFF9r8lFs2csHlZeqzkDh3W2D_hyphenhyphenPbRN8bfsNPmRH6m25qCoGFbpVTnRxGBYCYnbbYIsW-vVPkE6oqhcpU688w2YnmGhBiu1s/s1600/lady.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFSGSHce_o9Jh343Ga7oFUqw4Ni5Gqs1gbW9LnrrWfYDIFF9r8lFs2csHlZeqzkDh3W2D_hyphenhyphenPbRN8bfsNPmRH6m25qCoGFbpVTnRxGBYCYnbbYIsW-vVPkE6oqhcpU688w2YnmGhBiu1s/s1600/lady.png" /></a><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"><span style="font-size: large;">And I know <span style="font-size: small;">that</span> </span><span style="font-size: small;"><u>most people would call me cray</u> for that. But I went ahead and did it anyway.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">People wouldn't understand that I just couldn't do it anymore. I just couldn't. I had interviewed for 8 months all around NYC and was tired of 'acting' like I wanted to be somebody's assistant. I had been passed over and insulted and treated like a dog long enough by recruiters for some damn "I Want to Work for Diddy" type of shyt. </span><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Even though folks in these assistant jobs can make a lot of money, I didn't care. That career path just wasn't for me. I knew that it was over </span><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">when the new job started asking me to go out and get iced tea for the executive. I was officially over it and I.WANTED.OUT.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Why? Because i</span><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">t didn't make any damn sense anymore. I had done this assistant stuff because only I wanted something not too demanding while I ran my business. When the business closed in 2009 I should have turned my back on the job but by then I had gotten too comfortable there. I really f*cked up by staying there another four years and should have gone into something else. So I had to weigh it out. Either keep running to get iced tea and ordering sammiches for the big executives, or just bite the bullet and start fresh before I found myself doing a repeat and "getting comfortable" again. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">So that's what I did. I got the fluck out. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">That's because I was choking. I was dying inside. I was feeling lost and it was making me feel like....<span style="font-size: x-small;">I didn't want to be here anymore</span>. It was getting dangerous and affecting me mentally. So when the bank finally called said they would take me on contract basis I said yes. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">So I started the contract job at the bank and stopped going to the other job. And the other job fired me lickety split for not coming to work. Hated to do it that way and honestly I should have just QUIT, but silly me...I kept stalling and screwed that up big time. I was just sooooo confused I didn't know what to do.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">But I was freeeeeeee!!!!!!!!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I let the new job go and went to one for less money. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I let the new job go for no stability.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">And the contract ain't even for a year. How many people would do that? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Not many I bet. <u> Most people would just call me cray</u>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">And you know what, that's cool. I have thought and thought about it and I have it all figured out (I think...) If I play my cards right and get the experience in this financial crimes field doing a couple of contract positions, I'm thinking that in a year or so I might even surpass what I was making anyway in that job I just left. I will work on getting the certifications, network at this bank I am at now and build my circle, and hustle my way into FT before you know it. I'm on a mission. And I ain't the least bit scared.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS; font-size: x-small;"><em>(SIDE NOTE: A cute slim goodie just walked into Starbucks. Walkin' slowly and lookin' my way. Tall with a brown coat. Let's call him Toostie Roll. Ain't bought nothing to drink either and sat down. Freeloader taking up chair space!!! Hmmm. No empty seat at my table though. Dang. Actually that's probably for the better because I need to be bloggin' right now anyway. Plus I got my hands full with Trinidad and I need to TRY to be good. If he came over here he will wreck my flow. Stay away Tootsie Roll ...at least until I finish. LOL.)</em></span><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS; font-size: x-small;"></span></em><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">So like I said I ain't scared. The recruiters call and think I'm crazy. I went on an interview yesterday and they looked at me slightly crazy too because I took less money. But I just yapped on about my experience and tried to captivate them with my intelligence anyway. Not sure if it worked because w</span><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">hen the interview ended he said the dreaded "Good luck", which is never a good sign. Boo. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I read something once about taking chances and stepping backward to move forward toward a different success path. People may not understand that's exactly what I am trying to do, and even though I am not a young pop tart- I AIN'T DEAD YET! </span><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">For the past seven years I had not told a soul what I did for a living. My family didn't even know what I did. Most times I would just say "Office Manager" when that wasn't really my title. I did that because to me it didn't make sense given that I was an engineer, started two businesses, but yet I was ordering lunch and making travel arrangements for people??? Just for somebody to say to me that I didn't kiss somebody's ass well enough after six plus years of service??? If it didn't make sense to me I know it wouldn't make sense to somebody else. It was easy just to lie or avoid talking about it rather than explain how I had ended up at that job.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I had fallen asleep. When I was confronted with the words, <em>"You don't make him feel like he is number one",</em> it was just the wake up call I needed to leave that life behind!!!!! It snapped me out of whatever funk I was in and I am not gonna make the mistake a second time around. Hell no. I'd rather sit in the park all day and let my savings drain to nothing before I compromise myself again and be shame to tell anybody <strong>anything</strong> about myself. Not if I can help it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">And by no means am I saying that there is anything wrong with being an assistant, it was just wrong for me. <span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Yanno what I mean? I wasn't about that life. I don't wanna be running for iced teas like a 19 year old and I ain't asking another soul if they want extra leg room on the plane. Nope. Not no mo'! Money is nice but I need to do more than just "make a living." I hate working as it is so if I gotta work it better be doing something that I like. Word.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Yep. People can call me cray. They can even SUPERSIZE IT and call me cray cray. I may not like that reaction but in the end I am feeling tons better about the direction I am going in. Even while making this chump change. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"></span>That's because I only <span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">get one life, and I am gonna do what best suits me.</span> No matter how crazy it may sound. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">There's a reason why my code name is <strong><span style="color: blue;">"Eyes on the Prize</span></strong>". I always have to reach for more.</span><br />
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<em><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"></span></em><br />Eyes On The Prize (eyesOTP)http://www.blogger.com/profile/15947789188975040591noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1661945440022273897.post-44492757650539418262013-10-02T07:52:00.004-04:002013-10-02T07:52:38.619-04:00You Can't Be Serious...Four MonthsI need to be kicked in my ass for not coming out here. What the fluck happened?Eyes On The Prize (eyesOTP)http://www.blogger.com/profile/15947789188975040591noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1661945440022273897.post-33902234106563767602013-05-24T18:35:00.002-04:002013-05-24T18:36:55.863-04:00I Failed At Kissin' Ass. <br />
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I
don't know what to talk about first.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I
am sitting on a plane traveling from Trinidad back to the U.S., so I figured I
would try to catch up and blog a little bit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I am in a middle seat sandwiched between two guys who are sitting with
their legs open and their arms crossed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I am typing with my elbows literally glued to my sides and it's mad
uncomfortable, but I'll just suck it up and make it happen.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">There
has been a lot happening and if I wrote about it all at once the post would be
too long. That means I have to pick a subject so I guess I'll just begin with things with work. I swore that I
would never blog about work, but it's at the forefront of everything right now
so f*ck it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Last November<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>things came tumbling down at the job and it
has caused so much confusion in my brain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I gained about ten pounds as a result and now I am so disgusted with
myself that I can't stand it anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It
all started when I didn't get an annual raise in November.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was an assistant to two managers and then a
third got hired which meant more work for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was silent about it because I was waiting to see what my raise would
be, but when I confirmed that I <span style="background-color: lime;">was not getting a raise</span> I sent an email to my
manager asking him about it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And
you know what?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><strong>He didn't respond</strong>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><strong><em>At all.<o:p></o:p></em></strong></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Then
I sent another email to him a few days later. He didn't respond to that
either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> After this second diss I was really buggin out and my mind was all f*cked up. It was not a cool feeling. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span></span> </div>
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">And of course I tried to explain it away by saying </span>that he
didn't get the chance to read the emails, but when I sent other emails to him
the same day on work matters he responded to those without delay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> So c</span>learly he was avoiding answering the
question about the raise, and I just couldn't understand why.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was saying hello to me every morning and
straight dissin' me on my question about money over email.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
The whole experience was agonizing! Why was this man not responding to me? It wasn't like him to do this. Not at all. </span>I thought and thought about it until my head hurt, and then it finally
dawned on me why he wasn't responding to me....</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span> </div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span> </div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I must be getting fired.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And if this was the case I already knew why. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I
had this new manager that I had been supporting for about a year, and to be honest he and I
never really clicked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let's call him
"The Mitch", because in my mind
he truly is a male bitch from where I sit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span></span> </div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span></span><br />
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The Mitch is one of those middle-aged 30 somethings who has moved up very fast
and has been very successful in his short career.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whatever <span style="color: #cc0000;">formula</span> he has been using has
elevated him to partner status at my company and he isn't even 40 years old yet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> So it's no surprise that he is totally full of himself.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span></span> </div>
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>He is also one of those managers who drives
that <span style="color: #cc0000;">formula</span> into the ground by bringing his cronies from the old job with him<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> wherever he goes</span>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
know what I mean....he makes the company hire the people who he was comfortable with because he had groomed them in the manner
that he wanted them to work. And they licked his azz the way he wanted it to be
licked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The guys he brought to the
company acted like mindless wet seals to me because whenever this manager opened his
mouth for something they practically went ape shyt handling his requests.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were hyper and so was he. He built the perfect set up to make him feel like he was king.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span> </div>
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And then there was me....</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span> </div>
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">From the start I smelled his hyper ways and I
can't stand being around people like that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
I try my best not to feed into their hyper personalities, and just do my best to manage their expectations as best I can. With The Mitch, e</span>verything is a fluckin' fire and I refused to
"perform" in the way those other guys did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I made it a point to calmly handle his requests, while managing the
requests from the two other managers I supported.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <u>In short...The Mitch had to get in line</u>. Now of course I didn't TRY to make him feel that way, but h</span>e always seemed to want me to drop
everything I was doing to tend to him first.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Nope. Not happening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Especially when I had two other managers to deal with too. </span>It wasn't
going down like that because I knew that once you start prioritizing one person
over everyone else you will never get off that damn rollercoaster with
them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><strong><span style="color: blue;">Everything becomes urgent</span>.</strong><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="color: red;"><strong>Everything is hot</strong>.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="color: lime;"><strong>Everything is right now.</strong></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> And word up, y</span>ou have to nip that shyt in the bud as best
and as quickly as you can.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I guess tried to do that with The Mitch but this time I was outnumbered, and it looks like it cost me my job that I had<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>been at for almost 7 years.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So when
I figured that I was on the termination list, I prepared myself for the worst
and walked in the office of the lead manager who had been dissin' me. </span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Am
I getting terminated?"<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He
repeated my question as he thought about his reply, "Are you getting
terminated? Hmmmm."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He
searched the ceiling as if the answer was written up there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just sat there and stared in disbelief that he actually was pausing to answer my questoin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wanted to say, "Spill it dammit and
cut out all of the dramatics.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a
point blank question that needs a point blank answer. You have been avoiding me long enough. "<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Then
he repeated my question again, "Are you getting terminated?"<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another pause.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>More dramatics. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He finally answers, "Well
I don't want to terminate you, but The Mitch does."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">As he spoke to me I wanted to puke. I couldn't believe what I was hearing, and I couldn't believe his attitude either. The manager that I had known for six years had morphed into a Mitch Groupie. I'll
best try to summarize the list of issues that he ran down to me:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">1.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"You don't
make The Mitch feel like he's number one."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">2.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"The Mitch thinks
you have another job."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">3.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"The Mitch thinks that going to
the gym at lunch time is more of a priority to you than he should be."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">4.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Your
LinkedIn profile says 'entrepreneur' and that appears that you are interested
in doing other things."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span></span><br />
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Let's start with Number One. Um, I'm
not his f*ckin' wife and that's her job to make him feel like he is number one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Ain't nothing else I really got to say on that right there. He can suck my azz. </span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span></span> </div>
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span></span> </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaXfQfRW1zj9G3uSRjZS7rzIaeVeVun0QSwS4uQySXb6THVTLUn-CzW9XCSF03qsLAjA6aOXX5O6RW7pGDA1I2W4pYscQ99JfGu6dzjaGIXBp1hURdQcseCZQXtqrPX0biYKTZZM8Pmik/s1600/dont+kiss+ass.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaXfQfRW1zj9G3uSRjZS7rzIaeVeVun0QSwS4uQySXb6THVTLUn-CzW9XCSF03qsLAjA6aOXX5O6RW7pGDA1I2W4pYscQ99JfGu6dzjaGIXBp1hURdQcseCZQXtqrPX0biYKTZZM8Pmik/s320/dont+kiss+ass.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span></span> </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">As
for me having another job, I do have two side hustles...but neither of them interfere with
work like that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I thought working a side hustle was a good thing in most circles anyway? But nooooo, not at my job. </span>When I tried to tell my
manager that I bartended <em>only twice a month</em> on the weekend, he just kept cutting me
off saying he didn't want to know what I did or details about it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Say what?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Then why bring up that I have another job then?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Why you don't wanna hear my response instead of "guessing" that I have another gig. It all was just dumb to me.</span></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now
bringing up the gym...that's some bullshyt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I go to the gym on the lunch hour that I am granted by the company.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What I do on my lunch hour is my business so
I don't even know why that would be an issue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I told my manager plainly that the gym was a priority to me, and he
shook his head in disagreement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>According to him, when the Mitch needed me
during a certain time I was never at my desk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Firstly, The Mitch works remotely and comes in like 1-2 times per
month.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"></span></span></span></span> </div>
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I repeat...he comes in 1 or 2 times a F*CKIN" MONTH!!!!!!!! </span> </span>If The Mitch wanted me to do
something on those rare appearances and skip my lunch break, all he had to do was say so and I would have
gone to the gym after work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But nooooo,
instead he chose to complain about it to my manager who in turn never said
anything to me either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So instead they just let
the situation escalate to a point where folks were getting annoyed. Communicate people!!!! This is how shyt gets f*cked up at work when managers do not communicate their expectations!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I never stood there and said that I MUST GO TO
THE GYM AT LUNCH every day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And what
kills me about them bringing up the gym is that the company keeps pushing this work-life balance thing and
getting healthy stuff. But yet this dude gets salty because I go work out????<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On my lunch hour?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><em>My unpaid lunch hour?</em> Unbelievable.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But what really had me trippin' was that LinkedIn thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My manager was telling me about the profile like he had busted me doing
a crime or something. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Soooooo...what
about your LinkedIn profile?"<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I
answered, confused.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"What LinkedIn
profile?"<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"The
one that you have that says 'entrepreneur'?"<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Still
not remembering the profile I said, "Well I don't remember the profile being up
but I like to think of myself as having an entrepreneurial spirit."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My
manager shook his head in disapproval.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Apparently one of the wet seals saw my profile and reported back to The
Mitch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I guess to them it appeared that
my first love was not working as a bum azz Executive Assistant, and that I
really had my eyes on working for myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><strong>That folks, was the CRIME that I had been busted doing.</strong><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My jaw dropped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I couldn't believe that I was hearing this
about a generic f*ckin' profile I had up since maybe 2007. A profile that had a measly 14
connections of which half were my damn family members.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a profile that I completely forgotten
about, and I only put it up when I was trying to reconnect with an old
boyfriend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I Googled his name and saw
that he was on LinkedIn, and I threw up a quick profile just to send him a
message.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I put up the word
"Entrepreneur" because I didn't want him to know that I had
backtracked and was working as Executive Assistant aka "Secretary."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course I didn't tell my manager that was
the reason that I put up a different title, but I did defend myself by saying
that using a generic word "entrepreneur" to describe myself was not a
sin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I told him that they weren't making
any sense and were making a big deal out of a profile that really wasn't much of anything!!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> And I was even more mad because I didn't even recall it being up. It </span>wasn't like I put up "Pole Dancer" or "Nude Model" on my
profile...so again I didn't understand what the issue was??? More dumb shit.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Honestly
I think they were just trying to build a case against me, and was grasping at anything
by bringing up that LinkedIn profile. How dare I think big???! How dare I...the Executive Assistant....have entrepreneurial aspirations???? I should be beheaded!!! They were acting like I
was working for the competition or the mafia or some shyt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span> </div>
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The whole conversation was starting to make my head hurt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I was mad at them because everything that he
brought up to me could have been communicated to me before things had gotten
that point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Communication is key!!! Secondly </span>I was mad at myself because
no matter where I go, I seem to f*ck up something by being late or making
mistakes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now the reason was that I didn't
lick somebody's azz well enough to fuel his ego trip, and I also committed the
cardinal sin by being an entrepreneur and working out at the gym!!!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> They were killing me. </span>I have no raise; I was working for the three
managers when every other Assistant in the company had one or two; and you want to complaaaaaaiiiiiiin about me working out during my unpaid lunch break?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I was spent. The
conversation basically ended by my manager stating that he wasn't going to fire
me, but instead he was going to give me time to look for another job.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"I
think we all need a change."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That's what he said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Emotionless and looking like he didn't give a f*ck anymore.</span></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">As
I walked out of his office I said, "Well I'll consider that as you giving
me my walking papers then."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And
that was the end of that convo.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">That
was six months ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I handed in my
resignation letter last week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I'm surprised I made it this long. It is
just time to go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Things have been pretty
low key the past few months, and there haven't been any flare ups...but I don't
like the feeling of being around a situation that doesn't want me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> It's the worst feeling.</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></o:p></span><br />
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Six
months...and all this time I have been looking. I have been sending out resumes
and interviewing for shyt that I don't want to do, or in some cases do want to
do and not getting chosen for whatever reason.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It's been so crazy that I decided
to write another blog about the adventures I have had in job searching.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>More details to come.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I
do have a couple of offers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unfortunately,
the only permanent offer I have on the table is another Executive Assistant
position for a CEO and I'm not sure if I'm built to do this job again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <strong><span style="font-size: large;">A Professional Ass Licker I am not!!!</span></strong> </span>The other job is a cut in pay and is only a
temporary position, but it might get my foot in the door in an investigative
field that I have been working on the side for the past six years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I'm actually more excited about that one and don't care if it pays a little less if it gets me the bucks in the future.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoHeader" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I was so confused that I
accepted both positions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>LOL.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course I can't do both, but I have to
choose one soon.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">That's enough for now. More later.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Plane is landing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm back from Trinidad and it's been literally 14 hours since starting my journey back home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can see New York in the distance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Good to be home.</span></span></span>Eyes On The Prize (eyesOTP)http://www.blogger.com/profile/15947789188975040591noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1661945440022273897.post-67736346740998168462013-03-31T10:35:00.003-04:002013-03-31T10:35:32.908-04:00Looking for Azz...<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Seems like half of the people that come to the blog are looking for some variation of azz:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhwxRU7ONYNFzamFMD68skYE8KRPtPfnfJRKFLkDZVIR4ls5VQYv7866CKcgiIUNbom8T2FLICHGf0jagF49PU-SjDE_M278ycRqYv6X5QnfBjSkEYa-MORqrap81fNHlBDwxMWgDx-C0/s1600/Capture.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhwxRU7ONYNFzamFMD68skYE8KRPtPfnfJRKFLkDZVIR4ls5VQYv7866CKcgiIUNbom8T2FLICHGf0jagF49PU-SjDE_M278ycRqYv6X5QnfBjSkEYa-MORqrap81fNHlBDwxMWgDx-C0/s1600/Capture.JPG" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I find this interesting. Especially this "ass woman" search and the arrangement of the words. Why our peeps from overseas love searching using this term is beyond me. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">A</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">nd you know what's really funny? Most of the visitors who search for this are from Pakistan where the women are covered up. Now they make such a big deal about women exposing themselves or showing too much skin, but then get on the internet and look at naked women anyway. Now ain't that some <em>ish?</em></span><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"></span></em>Eyes On The Prize (eyesOTP)http://www.blogger.com/profile/15947789188975040591noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1661945440022273897.post-62823457475307788382013-03-26T23:34:00.002-04:002013-03-27T11:25:03.233-04:00Friend Turns Into Foe?<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's funny how a man can come between friends. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Instead of being mad at the dude for his "ideals" and his "fuckery", your girl gets salty at YOU and cuts YOU off because that's its a way of convincing themselves that they are taking ACTION. Frankly any ACTION taken should involve dude, not your damn friend that's been riding with you way before he walked onto the set. Someone usually gets cut off, but is it the person that was the source of their whole misery? Nope. It's the easy targets that get the cold shoulder. The friend that will probably forgive and forget will get the ax because they know you "will take them back" when it's all over. So because they aren't quite sure if their boo-thang will do the same, they ride that crazy train until the wheels fall off, all the while saying "I need to focus on me" when really they are focusing on HIM. They lick his azz and cheer him on, trying to everything they can to stay on his good side. What "side' they are on with you don't matter anymore. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: blue;"><strong>I tell you dyck is like a damn drug.</strong></span> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It can make us irrational, lose weight, lose sleep, and lose those in your corner. All at the same time. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I know because I have been there. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And for what? Why do we do these things? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For a fairy tale? Yep a muthafuccin fairy tale that we create in our own minds when in real life dude is nothing but a damn nightmare. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial;"><strong>Yep, dyck is a drug.</strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I say that because isn't it funny how all of sudden you become the one that's getting on their nerves? They ain't got time to hear about anything that's going on with you and they get annoyed when you talk about 'your stuff'. Notice how they don't even ask anymore what's going with your life. That's because....</span><br />
<br />
<strong><span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial;">Dyck is a drug.</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial;"></span></strong><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Before it was dude that was not making sense and talking crazy - now <strong>it's you</strong> that becomes the one that ain't making sense and talking crazy. Yep! Now something is wrong with you? When the tide shifts this way, you might as well stop trying because...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial;"><strong>Dyck is a drug.</strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've learned that any "friend" that's shifted the "problem" as being you instead of him is probably too far gone to save. There is nothing you can tell that person. If you speak too frankly to them about dude you're hatin'. If you don't say enough then you don't care enough and are selfish. They somehow try to bring the things that you have told them about yourself to rationalize whatever they're doing. It's hopeless. You just gotta let them ride that wave and pray that it is worth the sacrifices that they have made to keep that dude by their side. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><span style="color: blue;">Because dyck is a drug</span></strong>...</span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You become unnecessary. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">U.NECES.SARY. Even if your friend won't admit that to you, that's probably what it really is. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">(sings)</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em>"You're gettin' in the way....of what I'm feelin."</em> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfyOk4rodBzAnFwv3bw2eXOr8xSPcFCDwwUx60WAXhZRD0e4T85c12otZoWihNpMTF-bAE3ZIoNLfqARdzj3alW9U9E6dryfi0KgAMm4WY3fIJQWkjgPjf-Z0JvRYFbChCodIMDcrgInA/s320/dont+need+you.jpg" width="225" /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So if you are in "dyck's way" ...ahem I meant "love's way" , then just move. Just get out of the way and be done with it. </span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And maybe then I...I mean YOU can stop asking yourself what in the hell happened to your friend.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"><strong></strong></span></em><br />
<br />
<br />Eyes On The Prize (eyesOTP)http://www.blogger.com/profile/15947789188975040591noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1661945440022273897.post-27878283235266658202013-03-19T13:44:00.000-04:002013-03-23T12:20:36.382-04:00I Killed the Baby G<br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Hallelujah!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hallelujah!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>If I had a tambourine I would run up and down the aisles of this crappy
New York City library right now. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em><span style="color: blue; font-size: x-small;">(Sniff. Sniff.)</span></em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em><span style="color: blue; font-size: x-small;"></span></em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em><span style="color: blue; font-size: x-small;"> It kinda smells like the Funky People been sitting at this table. Whew!</span></em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em><span style="color: blue; font-size: x-small;"></span></em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em><span style="color: blue; font-size: x-small;">(wrinkles nose)</span></em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em><span style="color: blue; font-size: x-small;"> </span></em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em><span style="color: blue; font-size: x-small;">Oh well. Let me just try to focus. Everyone else seems to be okay. Maybe they are used to it??? </span></em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em><span style="color: blue; font-size: x-small;"></span></em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em><span style="color: blue; font-size: x-small;">(Wait. Interruption. Someone comes up to talk to me.) </span></em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em><span style="color: blue; font-size: x-small;"></span></em></span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Ok so my scarf was on the floor and the library security lady with the 40DDDD breasts just told me to pick it up because, as she put it, "</span></em></span><em><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: x-small;">Things might grow on it from these people that be in here. You know what I'm saying?"</span></em></span><br />
<em><span style="color: blue; font-family: Georgia; font-size: x-small;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: blue; font-family: Georgia; font-size: x-small;">I quickly picked it up and we chuckled quietly together. </span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: blue; font-family: Georgia; font-size: x-small;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: blue; font-family: Georgia; font-size: x-small;">(Sniff. Sniff.)</span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: blue; font-family: Georgia; font-size: x-small;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: blue; font-family: Georgia; font-size: x-small;">That security guard has been boozing it up somewhere in this library. I could smell the liquor wafting in the air as she passed. The smell was strong too. I bet she probably takes shots between the stacks of books. LOL. Man I tell you, New York City is a trip. Everybody is a damn character.</span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: blue; font-family: Georgia; font-size: x-small;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: blue; font-family: Georgia; font-size: x-small;">Anyway....back to work.</span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: x-small;"></span></em><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">
So </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I was sitting here in the library working on
a different post and I just ran my fingers across my upper lip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I'm smiling wide because it's as smooth
as Tyrese's head right now. After a month.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>repeat...AFTER A MONTH. For me this is some real shyt and a definite reason to celebrate with a blog post! </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I'm telling you <u>this is BIG</u>!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don't know why it
took me so long to get this right, and lawd knows it has been practically a lifelong
struggle dating back to puberty. I was probably 12 or 13 years old when one day this boy in grade school got in my face all close up and personal, squinted, and screamed, "You got a
moustache!"<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course his loud ass got the attention of the other kids,
and they started pointing and discussing me like I was a
science fair exhibit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm sure that I only
had a few baby sprouts on my lip at the time, but it was enough to cause a stir
on the schoolyard. It was terrible and I will never forget that day. Kids can make you feel like crap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I quickly
slapped my hand over my mouth and screamed, "So what! So what!" until the teacher came by and broke up the scene. Back in the classroom I sat with my hand over my face for the rest of the day suffering from post-traumatic stress syndrome. After school I ran home humiliated with my hand over my mouth the entire way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> After I was able to pull</span> myself away from the
bathroom mirror, I went to tell my mother about the situation. I figured that she would know what to do, because she was a girl once (I think). </span></span><br />
<br />
Her solution:</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><o:p><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="background-color: lime;">"DON'T
TOUCH IT. IT WILL GROW BACK THICKER".</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></span><br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">That's all she said, and went back to cooking dinner. </span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I stood there waiting to hear more, but there wasn't anymore. </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>Don't
touch it?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Did you say don't touch it?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That's all you got Ma?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You're supposed to be all knowing and have
the answer to every problem!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> So how am I supposed to get rid of it if I don't touch it? I wish I didn't even ask because all you did was just scare the shyt out of me with that advice. </span></em></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Now I was humiliated AND mad. She didn't get it. She had no clue that the schoolyard incident signaled the beginning of my bout with self-consciousness. <u>She
didn't understand</u> how The Hairys just added to the other things that I was
already becoming insecure about at that age.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span> Now fast forward to high school where by then I had transformed this insecure, crazy head
trip that lasted pretty much the entire four years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">The boys were cruel. The girls were bitches. Light skinned was in style and I wasn't light skinned. All the praises went to people with "good hair", Guess Jeans, and Coach purses....and I had none of the above. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">I wasn't hearing enough good things about myself. </span></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> N</span>ot even from my
parents.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I swear if it weren't for the random
boy who dared to show interest in me every now and then, I probably wouldn't have heard crap.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><o:p><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Ok, ok I'm getting off track. The point I'm trying to make is that I didn't listen to my mother about how to handle The Hairys. She
was buggin' if she thought I was gonna sit back and do nothing about a hairy
f*ckin' lip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">So despite her advice... I touched it anyway. </span></span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">And that's because </span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I still wanted to put up a
fight. For maybe 20 years that fight has involved me using almost every weapon
and method out there from chemical warfare (Nair), physical torture
(electrolysis), to bulldozing them (shaving).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You name it and I have probably tried
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> When I was dating my Latin Lover aka Chipotle, he tried to be encouraging by saying that the faint moustache made me look intelligent. LOL. I would just laugh when he said that. Only Chipotle could come up with that weird azz compliment. </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">He said women with moustaches were <em>"muy intelligente"</em> because they are too intelluctual to be concerned with vanity. Double LOL. Nice try Chipotle, but I wasn't buying it. I told him that when I see a woman with a moustache, the only thing that it says to me is either "Shave me" o</span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">r "I don't give a f*ck."</span></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></span><br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">And speaking of not giving a f**ck, I have a new found respect for the old<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>ladies that have The Hairys and the Baby Gs (Baby Goatees) on their faces.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6KU_72N8qgws203RaOCsMIOL-NrApVsAnRRni2CnXVPbGC_Q_adb-sGr7vZT-SoHf654yfKMoOLAD-0Vu_VKgyLGoDflhkhf_opeECysX28ZA52Fq6sutPj5-PgxEKRRI0_AOUTa7tIE/s1600/old+lady+with+moustache.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6KU_72N8qgws203RaOCsMIOL-NrApVsAnRRni2CnXVPbGC_Q_adb-sGr7vZT-SoHf654yfKMoOLAD-0Vu_VKgyLGoDflhkhf_opeECysX28ZA52Fq6sutPj5-PgxEKRRI0_AOUTa7tIE/s1600/old+lady+with+moustache.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><o:p><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
For years I have always wondered how any woman could let things get to this point, and now <strong>I think I know why.</strong> It's <span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">because they have grown
tired of trying to keep up with these muthafuccas!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> The older you get, </span>The Hairys become almost like
roaches.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You kill one and three come from the command center ready to take its place. The Hairys usually stay
winning on Grandma probably because 1) she probably can't see them anymore because her eyesight ain't what it used to be, or 2) she can't grab the tweezer to pluck the shyt because of her arithitis or her "nerves are too bad".<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I realized that at some point she finally said</span>, "F*ck it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Let the shyt grow." <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">I can most certainly respect that because imagine going thru a LIFETIME of waxing, tweezing, and plucking? Anyone would get tired of it, hence the reason for the pic above. </span></span></span></div>
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</span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Then you got that other group of women who say "F*ck it". The lip hair ain't no big thing to them. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Some even think it makes a statement. </span></span></span></div>
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<img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGpB-XBpMYnVAgZDLxGy81OZdYv5oVCVi_czwm9zqhKu8RULlUaVt3aOzp3pjF8r4xTWwe4VRemkeFQdExdKG5WgVzdwiHfHm0umPxddH2ePJSUVp_Ugl0beRsSi-vSvdGFM-fv7MkUHw/s320/moustache.jpg" width="320" /><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> YES THAT IS REAL>>>>></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Like my girl at the bar where I work. She proudly sports her peach fuzz and has no
problem with it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dudes are still checking for
her hard and it's not affecting her life in any way, so her philosophy is "if ain't broke don't f*ck with it".<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She is a
thick and shapely chick that commands a room when she enters it anyway, so her hips and thighs more than make up for the shadow over her lip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> She just has that ghetto fab swagger that will stop traffic <span style="font-size: xx-small;">(in ghettos)</span> and the guys just eat her up. And I do mean...<em>Literally. Eat. Her. Up.</em> </span>Overall she just carries it well, and if I could rock a 'stache like her I wouldn't be writing this. But I know I am not about that life. I'm too self conscious about it, </span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">and I'm not quite ready to have the lunchroom lady look with the red
lips and moustache.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">After trying almost everything I had found that threading has been the most lasting solution for me, even though it hurts and makes my eyes water most times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have
been ten years strong going to Bita and 'nem at the threading salon, but the thrill is fading fast. As each year passes the hair
is growing faster, wilder, and meaner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I can't keep up! </span>It's to
the point where I find myself plucking wayward chin hairs while sitting at a
red light in my car. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">I carry tweezers like I'm packing a pistol. </span></span></span>Then shyt got real when<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> I saw an old boyfriend one day. </span></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">It was a BRIGHT, SUNNY WEEKDAY MORNING when he came up and surprised me. I was waiting for the train to the city staring at my cell phone. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Wassup?" </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I looked up at him startled. He looked good. But my lip and chin didn't. In fact his face looked smoother than mine! </span></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">
And to make matters worse, it was way too sunny out for him to be rolling up on me like that anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was the type of sun that
puts a spotlight on every line, blemish, pimple and hair from a mile away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even though I had my makeup on and I was
dressed for a NYC day, I hadn't been by Bita and 'nem in about 2-3 weeks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I didn't have the time, and </span>I didn't check the Baby G that
morning because I was running late. It was no way I could pull out the tweezers and perform an emergency beard removal. He was already upon me flashing his million dollar smile.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">For
45 minutes I rode the train next to him in anguish. We chatted away about all types of things, but when I spoke I wouldn't
make eye contact with him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I kept
fumbling around in my purse trying to avoid giving him a full frontal view of
my face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm sure that he peeped that I was acting
weird, but I couldn't help myself. I was mad uncomfortable and he was just too close to me. When we got off the train and parted ways, I was mad as hell and told
myself <strong>that was it.</strong><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was tired of The Hairys and tired of the Baby G making me uncomfortable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I had had enough. </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I immediately went on the internet and researched
electrolysis and laser hair removal and made some appointments. My game face was on!</span></span></div>
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</span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">
First I tried electrolysis and that was a beotch. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <<<<</span><span style="font-size: large;">It hurt like
hell>>></span> and left sores on my skin from the electric pulses from that dagger probe she was using.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> You have to put electricity on every single f*ckin hair, and I had way too much fuzz for that nonsense. It was pure torture. </span>I think the Polish lady who did it knew she had jacked
me up too because she had this apologetic look on her face and gave me an awkward smile as I studied my face in the mirror. When I left the place I was even more pissed
than before, because although the hair
was gone I had a bunch of red damn marks and sores all over my fkn lip! It defeated the damn purpose of why I even went there. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><o:p><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">
Next I tried the laser removal thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was worried
because I read that it wasn't a good method for brown skin, so I looked for places that supposedly specialized in laser work for Brown Girls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I bit the bullet and paid the astronomical $79 for the
session - a session that lasted all of two
minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But to my surprise it worked! </span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><u>Well.</u><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I noticed results right after the first treatment</span>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The hair barely grows back and I only have to
go to a session every few weeks. I went ahead and bought the package deal and after
five sessions the hair is almost all gone!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I did get two small surface burns once and it freaked me out, but they
went away in less than a week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I just
used makeup to cover them up and it was all good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> But there is never any pain, and that was important.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">(exhales)</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">So Hallelujah!!! Although from</span> what I read, no method is guaranteed to
remove all hair, but if it takes 90 or 95 percent of it that is totally fine by
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> That's better than looking like a furry spider.</span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> So no</span>
more Baby G.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No more dealing with The
Hairys.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I was finally able to fix something that had bothered me from my days in grade school and </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">I feel good!</span> If I see that ex boyfriend again (and I'm sure I will) I'll look his azz dead in his face, </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">bat my eyes, and pucker my lips so they look extra sexy. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span> </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">So add the laser removal to my toe surgeries, correcting my teeth, and fixing my ear lobe - which is all part of OPERATION STAYIN' MARKETABLE. </span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> I'm actually proud of myself about the actions I have taken over the years for myself. I'm even thinking about another surgery this year. Why? Because I ain't got no babies and can spend the money on upgrading myself. As women get older our stock drops in many men's eyes, and that's why you see these old cats hawking the young gals. I can't go back to twenty, but I can try to make sure everything looks right and tight. </span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">And yeah I know it may appear that I am "into" correcting cosmetic things or that I may seem vain, but addressing these little things really has helped my self-esteem. I don't think that is a crime, especially not for a chick who went thru a mental hell and a lot of negative bullshyt during her early to mid-teenage years. With everything else that is going
on that is really f*ckin' with me right now, this was the one happy thing that
was worth writing about. </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span> </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Now back to regular programming.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></span><br />Eyes On The Prize (eyesOTP)http://www.blogger.com/profile/15947789188975040591noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1661945440022273897.post-48977183865739141342013-01-13T17:23:00.002-05:002013-01-14T10:40:28.340-05:00Where You Been?<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRORmvh1dHyMU4nHRRxlN8Zk5M9KFiFaJovgEX7njay2wk9u69brEBQobwu25BGJwifErRNDM8CgzwMf7F7Lu1xxB3E6DYmT_zFGsh3VWL2EfFgylsUEUjbTQCZY_VByX3Tkm9VhAAkY4/s1600/gangsta_chickabiggun.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRORmvh1dHyMU4nHRRxlN8Zk5M9KFiFaJovgEX7njay2wk9u69brEBQobwu25BGJwifErRNDM8CgzwMf7F7Lu1xxB3E6DYmT_zFGsh3VWL2EfFgylsUEUjbTQCZY_VByX3Tkm9VhAAkY4/s320/gangsta_chickabiggun.jpg" width="188" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">(sits back and exhales...)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Finally. I have carved out some time to blog. I hold my head in shame for neglecting this blog like I have. Damn. For one I am so glad that NC17 has not taken me off his blogroll because if it weren't for him I probably wouldn't have anybody landing on this page to begin with. I truly need to keep riding his coattails so at times I feel the need to keep blogging out of fear of being dropped by him! LOL. And I can't have that! </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">I don't have thousands of followers but the ones I do have I know I owe a lot of them to people clicking on the link over at Black Girls Are Easy.</span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">But of course I don't just blog to keep my status up over on his site. </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">I have had tons of things to write about, and I do it to get things off my mind or make things clearer. It's just been hard finding the place and time to do write. I used to write all of those wonderful masterpieces while at work, but for the past year or so I haven't been able to do that. Now that things are fugged up at the job and I'm working on leaving, I just have to rearrange my life and squeeze in time to do the things that I want to do --- like writing. I felt that I was losing my touch, and my writing skills were getting rusty. As I get older I even think that I have now have a touch of dyslexia, and I'll write something and when I read it, it sounds totally whack. But I am gonna pound out this blog post anyway even if it kills me. I have to bartend tonight (<span style="font-size: x-small;">ugh, don't know why I volunteered because I got mad personal shyt to do</span>), but I'm not gonna do another thing until I write this. No matter what. The girl is gonna write!! </span><br />
</div>
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</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">So what's first on the list? </span><br />
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial;"><em>Should I talk about my mother telling me that I embarassed her yesterday after learning that I was a Broke Ass Woman after her nosey azz sister read something about me? </em></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><em><span style="color: blue;">Should I talk about that my job basically told me to get the f*ck on because I don't lick my manager's azz enough to his standards?</span></em> Well that's one of the reasons anyways. LOL. I'm not perfect but I do a decent enough job. </span><br />
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</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Or how about some bar stories???!! Yeah, yeah. (</span><span style="font-family: Arial;">rubs chin)</span><br />
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><em><span style="color: blue;">Should I talk about these hating azz broads at the bar I work with?</span></em> Or how about the time when this man called me a bytch over a $5.00 drink he felt he was cheated on?</span><br />
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Oooohh....now wait a minute! Here's a good one. <em><span style="color: blue;">I could write about The Artist Formerly Known as Cornrows turning into a possessive little weenie bytch!!!</span></em> That's probably the best story I have from 2012. He caught feelings so hard that he would call me hollering about me talking too long to people at the bar, or that he felt like he was my secret lover (<span style="font-size: x-small;">which he was</span>), and then the grand finale when he texted me calling me a trick and a hoe after he saw another dude in my car. I can put anybody in my car that I want muthafucca! I wasn't trying to hurt anybody, but it makes me exhausted just thinking about his insecure, weenie azz. I think his birthday is this month too. F*cker. </span><br />
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="color: blue;"><em>I could talk about my pseudo boo boo</em></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="color: blue;"><em>, Mr. Trinidad</em>,</span> whose breath sometimes smells like well...boo boo. No lie. I think it's something internal going on with him because sometimes his breath smells like azz. Once I went in the bathroom at work and someone had taken a dump, and it reminded me of his mouth. Word. If it wasn't for the "thickness" of that member I probably would have bounced a long time ago. I keep him around because he is sweet and very thoughtful. More thoughtful than anyone I have ever met. He was my backup to The Artist Formerly Known as Cornrows and he was the alter ego of Tin Man who was a complete nightmare. What we have is pretty good though, however there is one problem. Sigh. More on that later.</span><br />
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="color: blue;"><em>Then there is Tin Man.</em></span> The Monster. The Weirdo. The Aloof Moron. The Heartbreaker. We spoke the other day. As much as he is a big zero to me, hearing his voice stirred something inside that made me want to feel it just one more time. I think he could sense it too, and dudes know how to reel you in once they got you going---they send you a stock photo of their dyck. Yep. That is exactly what Tin Man promptly did. He was on it! And he made sure that the one he sent was a <strong>close up</strong> where you could see that his thang was just bursting with flavor and ready to go! Damn him! At first I felt a tinge of insult when he sent it, but that feeling quickly subsided. Now I really think we should just f*ck and go back to not talking again. Hmmm, I dunno. He is sooooo fluckin' whack and lame. Not sure if it's worth it the effort. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"> </span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><em><span style="color: blue;">A new story is developing too. The female clerk at the post office wants to have sex with me.</span></em> I can tell. She stares at me and smiles like she wants to eat me. I always sensed something funny in her eye contact but last week she was looking at me in that "way". Hard. I think she is like five minutes from going in for the kill. It ain't gonna happen though.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="color: blue;"><em>And last but not least, there's Shallow Hal. </em></span><span style="color: black;">He has just gotten too hard to take as of late. I'll just let those blog posts speak for themselves on what I mean by that. I haven't spoken to him lately but I bet one of them gals ends up preggo in 2013. I tried to make a bet with him on that and he would only make a three month bet. I wanted to bet for the entire year. Obvioulsy he knows he can't trust his reckless dyck to go a whole year "raw riding" two <em>fertile</em> 30-something women.</span></span><br />
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</div>
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So what shall it be? Maybe these little snipets are enough. I know that is a lot negative stuff. A lot.<br />
<br />
Hmmm...what's good to talk about?<br />
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: red;">Well I saved $29K</span>. That's up about $17K from last year. That's pretty good since I filed bankruptcy about two years ago. <span style="color: red;">I also went to the Dominican Republic and I was back in the Bahamas for solo trips. </span> I was a bit reckless when I was out there but I made it back in one piece. I do stupid things with strangers and I need to be kicked in my azz. Then the plane back from Miami lost an engine and I thought I was gonna die in a crash! Emergency trucks and people were crying and everythang! It was so scary. It was one of the worst experiences in my life.<br />
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So I'm thinking. Thinking. Thinking. What first?<br />
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In the meantime, I'll pat myself on the back and check the blog off the list for today. I just need to bring my azz back sometime this week! <br />
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I'll think about what to write while I go and organize my shoes. I'm gonna take a guess and say I own probably 100 pairs. And just bought another pair today; another pair that I don't need.<br />
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That's ridiculous right? I clearly have a problem. </div>
<br />More later.</span>
Eyes On The Prize (eyesOTP)http://www.blogger.com/profile/15947789188975040591noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1661945440022273897.post-69563353314696426622012-11-03T18:12:00.002-04:002012-11-04T18:45:26.131-05:00Interview with a Dog: The Plot Thickens<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Shallow Hal and I are through.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">At least on an intimate level anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I won't front and pretend that I didn't miss the attention,
because I did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I always said he was
quite charming and generous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And when
you go from dealing with someone that wasn't doing shyt for you, then go to someone who does...it can be kind of mind
blowing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I liked what Shallow Hal did for me. A lot.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So when it was over, I'lll admit that I went
through a little withdrawal for a couple of days. I felt a sense of loss. Not loss on lovey dovey type of level, but a sense of loss from the attention I was getting from him. It was because<strong> <u>I wasn't</u></strong> on some lovey dovey shyt that the feeling</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> didn’t last too long though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Thank goodness! Within days </span>I quickly moved on (or went back) to old
flames, and dabbled a little more on Black People Meet (BPM).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">To be honest, </span>I was never really OFF the dating scene even when
I was dealing with Shallow Hal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I WASN'T THAT NAIVE. </span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The man
had two other women who had babies literally a month apart!!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would have been totally dumb to think that
I could scratch my way to the top of that heap of bullshyt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I didn't want to anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shallow
Hal could not be trusted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is a
predator of the worst kind, and he is always on a constant search for p*ssy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the best thing to do when you're messing
with a dude like this, <strong><span style="color: red;">is to shake off any feelings and keep entertaining new applicants.</span></strong></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Within a short time I started to sense that it bothered Shallow Hal that I was
out there dating though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He would ask me
all the time how was BPM, and when I would give him the scoop, he would fire
back at me with comments like, “I bet you wanna f*ck him don’t you?” Or “Do you think you wanna f*ck him?” and shyt like that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wasn’t
having sex with anybody that I met on BPM, but I would "hint" that I was or wanted to
just to f*ck with him anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe he picked
up on my little game because then he shifted to throwing his encounters with his two baby
mommas in my face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Once he texted me
this after Miss New York’s six week post pregnancy waiting period had ended:</span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;"><em>“I just got through f*ckin’ New York and it was sooooo
good.”</em></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Just out of nowhere I got this text.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At like 11 o'clock on a Saturday night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bastard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> He did that shyt to get me mad. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;"><em>"Obviously it wasn't that good if
you thinking about me right after you f*cked her, you punk."</em></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">His
bastard ass knew I wasn't interested in whether or not he got the p*ssy from
her or not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The text was meant to f*ck
with me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> He was trying to rub it in because I had moved on and he knew that I might soon be taking a ride on someone other than his azz.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">But there was another reason why I didn't like his text. Deep down </span>I hoped that she
wouldn't f*ck him and that she would leave his azz alone. He had dogged her. For months he had been filing immigration papers and planning a life
with Miss C. He brought her over here from their country, while all the long Miss New York thought that dude was riding only with her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I wanted her to cut him off. Teach him a lesson. I wanted her to not f*ck him. </span>I might have even said that to him
too once?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"I hope she
leaves you alone after all of this."<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I think I did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe
that's why he was texting me?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To let me
know that he was back in business with her, and that what I hoped for didn't happen. Who knows.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But what I do know is
that the text pissed me off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;"><em><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Why are you sending
me this shyt?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Are you trying to make me
jealous? ”</em></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Eventually he confessed to me that he was slightly jealous
that I was starting to date other people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Say what? Um you got a lot of nerve you dog!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You're jealous of me talking to other men when you f*ckin' two
women?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> TWO!!! </span>Who both know about each other....and still giving yo azz a pass?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> And you trying to hate on me?
</span>GTFOH.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> That was proof positive that Shallow Hal </span>couldn't
handle being on the other side of the game.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
He don't want you dating no one else but him, but yet he can do whatever the hell he wants. Well not with me Mister Man. He</span> had to learn;
you might be the sun, the moon, and the stars to them two gals...but not to me muthafucca.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I keeps it moving, and I can find new dyck
just like you can find new p*ssy. You ain't gotta update me with your p*ssy conquests to prove you still the man without me. Just stop it.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Thankfully, and as time went on, he did stop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On second thought, maybe not completely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He would still tell me stuff about him being
intimate with his two ladies; that never stopped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Yeah we were f*cking all day, then I took a nap. Then I packed and drove out to Miss New York's house."</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I would just sit and listen. It was when he was casually talking about his sexcapades that he told me about screwing in front of his kids. As much as I missed his doting ways, after that confession I just couldn’t get the image out of my head of
him f*ckin’ Miss C while the little ones probably looked on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just couldn't.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know to this day Shallow Hal wishes he never
told me that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That information
definitely changed the game for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was
turned off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: red;">Permanently.</span></b><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And that's when things had officially shifted between us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;"><strong>SHALLOW HAL AND I HAD MOVED INTO ...</strong></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqFlC4mN5-qA5DB4mgxQ4ZnT1iyVOO6_TZt4nWfZkd9BRHX38czpXYArpkTVf3JoBIvoTrfypjpkwqoDnpPdp7A9eHPOyj9d9yxdLrTXGu2PSGKS3RJzQMHUsJt6qZlASaZQ-ujrawIq0/s1600/friend-zone.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqFlC4mN5-qA5DB4mgxQ4ZnT1iyVOO6_TZt4nWfZkd9BRHX38czpXYArpkTVf3JoBIvoTrfypjpkwqoDnpPdp7A9eHPOyj9d9yxdLrTXGu2PSGKS3RJzQMHUsJt6qZlASaZQ-ujrawIq0/s320/friend-zone.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I mean the 'real' friend zone, not the 'friends with
benefits' zone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Of course if I was down to give up the booty Shallow Hal would definitely take it, and of course he would always try. But I wasn't feeling it anymore. I didn't really have anyone new in my life either, but the desire I had for him became nonexistent. Plus I honestly felt like taking a break from dudes anyway. The friend zone was a seamless transition for me and him, a</span>nd I kinda liked that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>We communicated pretty much every day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He would call me while he was driving to work
in the morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes he would call
in the evening too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>During the day there
were a flurry of emails between us, and by the end of a typical day we would
probably send 20-40 emails to each other -- maybe even more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m surprised I even got any work done most
days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The subjects varied but most times the conversations were usually
about him of course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="background-color: lime;"><span style="background-color: white;">Hal loves to</span><em><strong> talk about
himself.</strong></em></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>Or somebody he knows.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>Or somebody he used to date.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>Or his sister. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Or his brother --- who is another f*cked up individual. Don't you know this man DETESTS Black women? His family brought his azz from his country to have a better life, he grew up and served in the armed forces, then has the nerve to turn around and hate on Black women. Hard. Openly hard. In fact he is totally disgusted and turned off by anything Black. Including chicks from his own country. So it's no surprise that he will only date Caucausians or Latinas. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Half his age at that. After hearing this, I seriously wondered how Hal and his brother grew up. What in the world was going on in THAT house because how these two deal with women cannot be a coincidence. I'll probably never know. Maybe it's a cultural thing with women for them. I dunno.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So like I said, if I started to talk about
any personal experience that I had, Shallow Hal would always manage to turn the
conversation around where it would be him running his mouth about HIS
EXPERIENCE instead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> LOL. </span>Whenever this
happened, I would silently chuckle at his level of self-centeredness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I understood the kind of person that I was
dealing with though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="background-color: lime;"><span style="background-color: white;">Shallow Hal always,
always, always</span> <em><strong>thinks about himself.</strong></em></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
noticed that it was difficult for him to listen very long about someone else,
particularly women. Now is that a bad
thing?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would say no, but only if that
self-absorbed mindset doesn’t impact other people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course this is not the case for Shallow
Hal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">In fact, Shallow Hal is a user.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is a charming and handsome manipulator
who has impacted the lives of everyone around him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He changed the lives of two innocent females
who believed that he loved them…and them only.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Hell he has even impacted my life too, so much so that I am sitting here
writing about him right now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Knowing I
have a boatload of shyt to do for myself, I am using MY TIME to blog about his
shyt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I ain't even getting paid!!!!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">(rolls eyes)</span></div>
<a name='more'></a><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Okay, okay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm
getting off track.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So what did Shallow
Hal and I talk about morning, noon, and night?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>One hot topic was about Miss C and her future here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her visa was about to expire in a few weeks,
and Shallow Hal went back and forth with me on what to do with her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"It would kill her if I sent her back without the
kids."</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And if he kept the kids to raise here in the United States
and sent her back, who would take care of them while he went to work?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was adamant about not paying for child
care.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> The idea of that bothered him to his core. </span>Plus he
admitted that he never changed the kid’s diapers, bathed them, or did anything
like that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He left that all up to Miss
C.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If he sent Miss C back, he couldn't do that stuff. Even after work. If Miss C went back to their country, He was
pretty sure that Miss New York would take of his kids plus the one she had with
him with no problem. </span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">This is because he believed, that </span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"She has the better heart of the two."</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><u><strong>Translation:</strong></u><em> Miss New York is the most FORGIVING of the two</em>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> But there was one small problem with that plan. </span>He didn’t think she wanted to
move to out PA with him, even if Miss C was forced to go back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> She was cool living close to her peeps in Queens. From where I stood, </span>I didn't think that would be the case.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought that she would be happy as hell to be
declared the winner in the "For the Love of Shallow Hal"
contest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Something smelled fishy to me though. I thought it was quite odd that he
was saying that Miss New York wouldn't come to live with him. Then I thought about it. Shallow
Hal probably DIDN'T WANT Miss New York to live with him. </span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Why? </span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Because she was LEGALLY HERE. She had choices.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She could speak
English.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was a firecracker compared
to Miss C.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She could get around, get up,
and leave his azz.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She could file child support
and hurt his pockets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And on top of that she would want
to be married too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In a nutshell, she
was too independent for him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> From where I stood, he</span> would
rather have the helpless one instead. Eventually that truth came out.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I need Miss C “, he confessed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I can’t take care of the kids without her.”</span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">A little voice in my head whispered: <em>"You forgot to say that you can also f*ck around on Miss C more easily too."</em></span><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></em><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So there ya go.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Hal only wanted her to stay because he wanted his boys to
stay. But he didn’t love her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He didn’t want her ‘like that’ he said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yeah she was good for f*cking, cleaning,
cooking, and taking care of his kids, but HE.DIDN'T. WANT. HER.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He made that very clear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He said she was a good girlfriend (whatever
that means to a dude like Shallow Hal), but he didn’t have enough deep feelings for her to
marry her to keep her here legally.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">In short, he was torn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> He was confused on what to do. </span>If she
left and went back to their country, getting the government to allow her to
return would be highly unlikely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His
kids would go with her, which would defeat the purpose of why he impregnated
her in the first place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He couldn’t be
the dad he claimed he wanted to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
told Miss C when he started the process of applying for her spouse visa that he
didn’t want to get married, so Miss C was fully aware he didn’t want to get
married.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But as the clocked ticked and
the visa expiration date got closer and closer, Miss C began to become more
vocal and wanting “security” for herself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I guess she probably figured that once she got here, had both kids, and
was the good little “housewife” to him, that Shallow Hal would change his mind
and marry her to keep her here. </span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">That didn’t happen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He stayed firm on marriage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
didn’t want it and he didn't want her.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">But it didn’t mean that he wasn’t <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">thinking </b>about keeping her here permanently.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hal scrambled
to try to get things for her, but he couldn’t because her 90 day visa was close
to expiring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<ul>
<li><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">He went to the DMV to try
to get her a state ID card and they said no.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">He tried to get her a bank account and they wouldn’t do it because she
had no proof of address.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>He tried to get
her charity care and medicare before having the baby but they wouldn’t do
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Somehow his cousin with the eight
babies knew how to how to get a medicare card so she could have the free
doctor’s visits.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>He had been trying to
show her how to drive but had to abort that mission because she couldn’t apply
for a driver’s license.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
</li>
</ul>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So there they
were, all the way in PA, and the chick couldn’t drive herself anywhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He said he felt like he had three kids
because every little thing he had to take her to everything -- baby doctor, her
doctor, dentist, grocery store.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The only
thing he was able to do was renew her passport at their country’s consulate in
Manhattan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was all a mess.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He talked everyday about trying to fix this
problem.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her wanted her to stay; and
then he didn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He kept going back and
forth with it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He couldn’t sleep. </span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Then I got an email from him one day.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I’m thinking about paying someone to marry her.”</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Before I replied, I quickly went on Google and looked up
some things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Something told me that it
wasn’t that easy. I replied back, </span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"Um, sorry it
doesn’t work like that anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Immigration got hip to that game years ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you’re not gonna marry her and someone
else is, SHE HAS TO GO BACK AND WAIT FOR THEM TO APPLY FOR ANOTHER SPOUSE VISA
UNDER THEIR NAME.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She can’t stay here
and wait for the application to be approved.”</span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Crickets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t
get any more emails from him that day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Instead he called me later.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">SH:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Maybe I will
just marry her after all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’s not a
bad girlfriend, but I’m not a relationship type of dude.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I like having a woman around to come home to,
but I’m just not a good relationship dude.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Marriage ain’t for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>”</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Me:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Then why would
you get a woman pregnant in another country then? You said you wanted to be a
dad but why you just didn’t get Miss New York pregnant and leave it at
that?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At least she is a citizen and can
get a driver’s license and what not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
don’t understand why you got someone pregnant in a different country.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then you bring her here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Did you even plan this thing out?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Did you research the laws on this spouse visa
thing?”</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">SH: “No.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I told
myself that I would figure it out once I got her here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I figured that I could find a way around
marrying her to keep her here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like if
she had little kids that the government wouldn’t send her back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I made a mistake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I should have just had the kids with Miss New
York.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She is not a bad person.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She never did anything bad to me either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Miss C was really just a vacation chick for
me honestly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Someone I could f*ck and
hang out with when I was there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I
wanted kids, I just wanted them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just
made them with her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Getting Miss New
York pregnant was a mistake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Now </span>I just
want all of my kids in the same house. ”</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">As I sat there and listened, I could hear the stress in his
voice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He knew he f*cked up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He changed so many people's lives because of
his wayward dyck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He literally controlled
the fate of another adult person.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> And i</span>t was
all up to him.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Me: “So what you gonna do?”</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">SH:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I went to two
immigration attorneys and asked them how she can stay here without me marrying
her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They both said there really wasn’t
much way around it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would have to
marry her for her to stay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I don’t,
then she must go back when her visa expires.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There is really no way around it and they told me I better decide soon too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The longer she goes with an expired visa, even if I do marry her the
government still may not approve it because I waited so long.”</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The next day he told me that he finally had a heart to heart
convo with Miss C.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After he told her
what the lawyers said, she replied, “Well I don’t want you to do anything you
want to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I have to go back, I’ll
go back.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">But he knew Miss C didn’t want to go back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She told him that she would be the laughing
stock of the place where she lived.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She
would be humiliated if she had to return.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Also why would she want to go back to a third world country?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The country was too poor and Hal had given
her a life that most women would not have.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> That woman didn't want to go back. Not at all. To many she is lucky. Even to me, that chick<span style="color: lime;"> is lucky.</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: 8pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">(thinks to self)<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 8pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Is lucky the right word? Hmmmm.....<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">As the clock ticked and her expiration date drew closer, Hal
tells me that the sleepless nights are wearing him down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His mind raced all night as Miss C lay next
to him in his bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">If he marries Miss C,
it would devastate Miss New York and he didn’t want to hurt her more than he
already had.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>If he didn’t marry Miss C,
she would be here illegally and would be limited in so many ways.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She would be just as much of a liability to
him as she was an asset. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It was all just a mess. Shallow Hal had really, really made a mess.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />Eyes On The Prize (eyesOTP)http://www.blogger.com/profile/15947789188975040591noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1661945440022273897.post-83295345153584237272012-10-18T16:11:00.004-04:002012-10-18T16:18:06.973-04:00Two Months?<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Noooooo!!!</span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Don't tell me that it has been that long! What the hell is going on?</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I think about the blog all the time. Promise myself that I will post what I have written, and then something happens. If you wanna know the truth, it's a glass of Moscato that usually happens. When I drink a glass of that, it's usually over. Then today I just Googled that I might have a bit of dyslexia because I noticed that the drafts of my blogs are just all over the place. It's like when I read them I can't even understand what I was trying to say.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">So lemme just do this quickie post. Maybe this will get my damn engine started. I have been juggling these men, juggling these jobs, and trying to do everything else in between that it's c</span><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">learly it's causing me to neglect my little diary. </span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">And this can't go on.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">This can't continue.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Hmmmm. Maybe I just need to write in tidbits instead of writing SAGAs like I was doing. My latest draft on Shallow Hal is seven pages long! No wonder I don't wanna go back and proofread that shyt. The thought of going back and tweaking it is driving me to the damn Moscato at night. I feel like I am editing a movie script.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">But I will finish it though. I have to.... </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">...because it helps me breathe.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">And right now I feel like I can't.</span><br />
<br />Eyes On The Prize (eyesOTP)http://www.blogger.com/profile/15947789188975040591noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1661945440022273897.post-23418635632287603112012-08-24T17:28:00.001-04:002012-08-27T16:52:48.296-04:00Interview with a Dog: Part VIII - Too Much To Take<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #323232; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','sans-serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">“Mind trips are not what I wanted outta this. Shyt was getting to my head now, and I knew then that I had to get off the rollercoaster. </span></i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #323232; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span></i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #323232; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS','sans-serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">That's when Shallow Hal reveals something to me that even I couldn't take...”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I wrote that back in April.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s been a minute since I wrote about Shallow Hall, Miss New York, and Miss C. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Months have passed and the summer has come and gone, but with the heat came a little clarity for me on some things. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I guess I’m good enough now (<span style="font-size: xx-small;">whatever that means</span>) with coming back and resuming the Shallow Hal posts. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is a lot to catch up on, so like before I have to write it in bits and pieces.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hate that I waited so long to write because when things happen I say, “Yeah I’m gonna blog about that.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then I don’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then I end up mad at myself that I’m not blogging because I find that when I do it clears my mind a little bit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Besides, there are lots of things going on besides Shallow Hal and his shyt!!! He ain't the star of this damn blog.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have some good azz stories to write about starring MY DAMN SELF anyways okay? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t need his azz to make an interesting story to write on my blog.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm interesting all on my own! :)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">But I will give him and his drama the stage again, because over the past few days I wondered about what he brings to my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">He’s a male chauvinist, and he admits to that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He is a dog, and he admits to that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>He is a cheater, and he admits to that too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>And when you combine all of this with a pocket full of money you have a real live Stevie from Love and Hip Hop on your hands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In fact, when I watch the show (<span style="font-size: xx-small;">yeah I admit I watch it</span>), I can’t help but to compare Stevie to Shallow Hal because they both are.................</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: x-large;">RATS!!!!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVr7H25LWzg0r6gcFxkg_iht_iJwKHtr-3jf4bFb23vPiVn830ShVIHinGHN3d-gmeM7dZVCFoEgMCt6WiI2ob-1btIXHnGmIjiGpPPAQs-aTmL9fCFAj2hXh7m_QmgBOGU70pMqDGOjc/s1600/stevie+j.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVr7H25LWzg0r6gcFxkg_iht_iJwKHtr-3jf4bFb23vPiVn830ShVIHinGHN3d-gmeM7dZVCFoEgMCt6WiI2ob-1btIXHnGmIjiGpPPAQs-aTmL9fCFAj2hXh7m_QmgBOGU70pMqDGOjc/s1600/stevie+j.jpg" yda="true" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Both are men who are dealing with two women, and the only reason why he wants them to get along is mainly for his selfish benefit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How would SH benefit?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well according to him, his dream would be that Miss New York would come and live with him and Miss C out in PA.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This way he can stop giving Miss New York the $800 per month; Miss New York can go and work because she speaks English; and Miss C would stay home and take care of the two kids he has with her, and the kid he has with Miss New York.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He has jokingly even spoken to Miss New York about this scenario too, especially whenever she complains that she has to work every day and Miss C doesn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course she gets mad when he brings it up, but he says he will keep trying.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Me:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“And if she does agree to come.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How do you think Miss C will take it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">SH: “I don’t care.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Right now Miss C is in the better situation of the two in my mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would just tell her she’s moving in and that’s it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What can she do?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And the man is dead serious. He really wants them all to live together. Every time he tells me about this pipe dream I really think that this man is crazy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I really do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I know he is gonna try to sell it to Miss New York hoping that she will soften up and give in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He already figured that he wouldn’t get anymore azz from either one of them if he got them to move into the house together, but I guess he will just get back on BPM and find someone like he did me. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">(shrugs shoulders)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So back to Love and Hip Hop.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I was watching the show this past week, and Stevie came in a therapy session with a shirt that had the words <strong>“I AM GOD”</strong> blazoned across it in big gold letters. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I instantly thought of Shallow Hal.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I think Shallow Hal thinks that about himself also…that he is God to women (or at least to Miss C anyway.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I even remember him telling me how he told Miss C that he was God once.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was when he first showed her the new house that he bought out in PA.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As she looked around the place, she was just awed and amazed at the size of her new home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She happily said, “Oh I am soooo grateful to God for what he has done for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Look at this house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God is doing so many great things for me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">But Shallow Hal didn’t like that she said that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Well I must be the God you’re talking about because I’m the one that made this shyt happen.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">He shut her down on who to give credit to real fast. How dare she thank God?!!!! After spending $30K on a down payment Hal wasn't letting NOBODAAAYYY take credit for shyt! I was like damn Hal, can she have her little spiritual moment?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Sheesh. </span>I always tell him that he seems like he is controlling, but he always tries to make me sound like a nut.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His idea of controlling men is those who stalk women or stop women from going where they want.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He always screams, “That ain’t me!!!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ok so he ain't a stalker, but no matter how many times I try to explain to this fool that he is controlling in other ways he doesn’t listen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I told him that in that he deliberately found a chick who was helpless without him, forced this situation down her throat with this other chick and his other baby, and because she ain’t got no family here – she’s stuck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He just runs all over her and goes f*cks his other woman every weekend, and leaves her by herself 80 miles away all alone with two little kids.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She can’t speak English.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She can’t drive nowhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She can’t do nothing but walk to the park and to the local grocery store and strip mall. He's controlling if you ask me.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The thought of it all makes me....Grrrr....</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Ok, I’m getting off track.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let me rewind before this starts getting too long.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Aiight, so as I last I left it, I said that Shallow Hal revealed something to me that even I couldn’t take.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It happened on a day he asked me to meet him for a drink after work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I suspected that he was doing it because things between us where starting to fade, mainly because the babies were here and he couldn’t keep the two baby mommas and me happy too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Plus the situation was sounding so messed up that I was finding myself getting turned off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wasn’t looking that good to me anymore either, and the compliments he gave me I just felt were lines.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I just wasn't feeling him like I used to. </span>So I guess this was his attempt to make a little time for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I meet him of course he starts with his regular sugary shit…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Oh you look so good!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Oh you’re so pretty I bet all the dudes were checking for you today.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I just rolled my eyes and said, “Whatever” in my head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s the same shyt (or similar shyt) he always says, and I’m sure he says the same things to his other two gals too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wasn't moved by his words at all.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">As we are walking to the bar, he starts to tell me about his oldest son who was about 15 months old at the time.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Guess what he did the other day!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He yelled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">He said he was in the waiting room at the doctor with his son and Miss C. When little man spotted another little girl toddler across the way, he stopped dead in his tracks and stared her down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then little man just walked up to her, and without a sound got in her face like he was about to kiss her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Hal said he had this look on his face like he was gonna tongue little momma down right then and there. </span>SH said that he quickly grabbed him by the back of his shirt and dragged him back over to where they were sitting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> "Hey kid! What the hell are you doing??!!!" </span>I looked at Hal, and he had a look of amazement in his face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I guess it was the same look any parent would have after they see their little kid doing something that looks too mature for their age.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After he finished the story I faked a chuckle and said, “Oh well he is being just like his father. “ </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I shut it down. I didn't wanna hear anymore. Hal still had this baffled look on his face about what his kid did, but to be honest I wasn’t interested in the story.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I guess I wasn’t in the mood for hearing about toddlers being fresh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or maybe it was because it was HIS TODDLER and I thought that he was breeding another Hal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t know what it was, but something just wasn’t sitting with me right after hearing that story.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead I changed the subject because I was feeling bothered for some reason.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">But that was nothing compared to what Hal told me next.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Shallow Hal and I are sitting in the bar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He spits out a few more “You look so good” remarks (yawn), compliments me on my outfit, and we chit chat about various topics.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We didn’t have a lot of time to meet because he had to get back to PA, so I get right to the juicy stuff.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just wanna hear about his tryst primarily.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I ask him what the latest news with them was, but he tells me that he doesn’t want to talk about them that night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No matter how much I asked, he wouldn’t budge and wouldn't give up any info</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="color: red;">F*cker.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Okay then.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Instead he wants to talk about his kid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He confesses that he really only cares about the oldest boy, and that he doesn’t think much about the newborn at all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He also was annoyed that the oldest kid is sleeping in the bed with him and Miss C.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hal said he couldn’t get any sleep because the kid sleeps wildly and was kicking him in the head in the middle of the night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>LOL.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had been trying to get Miss C to have him sleep in the crib from when they first got here from their country, but when the kid starts crying she gives in and brings him in the bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> After </span>months of that routine the kid wasn’t trying to hear nothing about that crib.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even if they do get him to start off sleeping in the crib, he will get up in the middle of the night and crawl back into bed with them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Right on top of Shallow Hal’s square shaped head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> LOL. </span>Then all of a sudden Hal is reminded of something, and a smile comes across his face. The convo switches lanes and<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> h</span>e starts to tell me another story,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“You know that kid is funny.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(laughs)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You know he tried to pull me off of her a few times?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“What do you mean?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pull you off of her?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“You know, when we be f*cking,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>he grabs my leg and tries to pull me off of her.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I gasp. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“What? </span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Are you having sex in front of him?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">He calmly says, “Of course I am.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He takes a sip of his rum and coke.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“You shouldn’t be having sex in front of a child!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Are you serious?!!!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Well when am I supposed to do it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“When the kid goes to sleep!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Shallow Hal waves me off with his hand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“ I’m not waiting for him to go to sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That kid doesn’t go to sleep until after 11pm and I have to go to work in the morning. I'm not waiting up that late.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Then put him to bed earlier then!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can’t be having sex in front of your kid!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He learns from what you do!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No wonder he stepped to that other kid like he was gonna take her down in that doctor’s office.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is watching your big azz f*ck right in front of him.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My eyes widen and I feel my face getting hot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shallow Hal looks at me and he can see that I am annoyed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He seems to think about it for a couple of seconds, but he just blows me off again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“It’s not a big deal and I am not waiting for him to go to sleep!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">His voice is getting louder but I don’t care. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not letting up on this, and to be honest, I couldn’t believe I was even having this f*ckin’ conversation anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I got a grown azz, Wall Street professional sitting in front of me, wearing a nice suit, telling me that he f*cks his woman in front of his 15 month old son.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><strong>Like an animal.</strong><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We go back and forth about it for a couple of minutes, but I can see that he doesn’t wanna listen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Hey if I want some azz I’m getting it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I ain’t waiting on the kid to go to sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He don’t even pay attention to us like that anymore anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That was only twice he tried to pull me off of her.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"It shouldn't have been even once!" </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I wanted to puke.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Ok.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then do what you want.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But when that kid goes to day care and preschool and starts humping on the little girls then you will wonder where it gets if from.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Silence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>SH seems to be thinking again, but you can never tell with that muthafucca.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> When he </span>switches the topic to something else, I knew he wasn't listening to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Typical Hal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We chatted for maybe another 10 or 15 minutes but the tone of evening had really shifted to the left after that convo.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He dropped me off at my train, and as I walked to it, my mind was racing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I couldn’t believe that he actually thinks that it is okay to have sex in front of a kid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To me, that’s like sitting a toddler in front of porno movie instead of cartoons. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> The thought of i</span>t was too much for me to take.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had never heard no shyt like that in my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now I have read about people being caught when the kid walked in on them, but I never heard anyone initiating sex while the kid was in the same room looking?!!! That's just not cool to me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">When I stepped out of his car I knew.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> It was over for me. </span>I was done with him on an intimate level.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I mean the other stuff was pretty bad that I knew about and had participated in, but this sex in front of the kid thing ---- I couldn’t stomach that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In my head I questioned Miss C too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I asked myself how a mother would think that is okay?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I mean is it okay?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Am I being uptight? </span>I know the kid is little and probably won’t remember stuff, but you never know!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kids imitate their parents.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What if he slips up one day and blurts out something in day care about “mommy and daddy on top of each other and my mommy makes noises”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could be over exaggerating and making something out of nothing, but my gut tells me that this is just straight foul.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It bothered me so much that I went and looked it up on the web, and I even asked a male friend about it who is also from their country.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He said that this woman‘s first priority is to please her man.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whatever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He didn’t agree with what they were doing, but he said honestly the woman should be the one stopping that more than the man.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I disagreed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hal is the most educated of the two of them and should know better as far as I am concerned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But again, this is Shallow Hal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When it comes to getting azz, there ain’t no rules but his.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The subject was dropped for a while, but a few months later Shallow Hal is telling me about his asshole friend (that’s for another blog because I actually went out with asshole last week; now I know why he and Hal are friends. Ugh.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His friend was dating some chick that was 20 years younger than him, and he was bitching because her 2 year old wouldn’t go to sleep and it was preventing him from getting his azz.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had to wait until one in the morning sometimes and he had to go to work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> The things men complain about. LOL. </span>Then Hal blurts out..</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I told him ‘Hey, I f*ck in front of my kids.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t give a f*ck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I want some azz I’m getting it and I ain't waiting until my kid goes to sleep.'"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I could feel my body stiffen as I held the phone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is this moron bragging about this this dumb shyt?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>TO OTHER PEOPLE????<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He kept on talking about whatever, but I couldn’t hear anything else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had to stop him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I asked him how did his friend respond to that confession. Hal said he didn't. Then </span>I told him don’t tell another soul that he has sex in front of his small babies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I said that all someone has to do is overhear him saying that and child care services could be called. And you and Miss Caribbean will be in some deep shyt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">ESPECIALLY HER....WITH AN EXPIRED VISA.</i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And when I said that, he listened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After I put it that way, and that Miss C could be deported over that shyt because in his state it is considered CHILD ABUSE to have sex in front of a child, he agreed that he shouldn’t talk about that with others anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I finally got thru to that rock head for once. But the problem isn't really solved. </span>At best he probably won’t tell anyone else, but I don’t think he will stop f*cking in front of his babies<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Getting azz is way too important for him. I told him that he was the poster child for "How Not to Raise a Kid." I just feel he doesn't take in interest in the upbringing of kids. All he talks about is buying clothes for them. To me, he just wants to play with them, and he doesn't give a shyt about their development and learning. I emailed him once and wrote, "I bet there ain't one kid video in that house. Not one book. Nothing." I was getting on him because I knew he wasn't thinking about it. The kid does nothing but grunt and point and he is almost two. He didn't reply to that email. Because I was right. On the real, Hal just wanted kids. He wants someone to call him Daddy. The rest of it he ain't worried about. But then again how could he? He got two chicks he gotta serve dyck to and pay for so they won't get mad at his dumb azz. Apparently he can't focus on too much else.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Anyway, that little story marked the end of me of Hal on an intimate tip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I never f*cked him again after that. </span>I was disgusted and turned off from him. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">I kept imagining his d*ck out, drinking straight from his Bacardi Rum bottle, and getting Miss C from behind with his kid sitting in the midst. (shivers) It bothered me so much that I even told the therapist. </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">I always said he talked too much, and this time he said too much. I didn't get loud with him though. You can't do that with Hal. He doesn't handle emotions too well. I never told him that I stopped f*cking him because of this thing with his kid. When he asked I would just say, "You don't have time for me." And I left it at that.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">I didn't hate the dude, so I became the "friend without benefits" because I still wanted to find out how he was gonna work this shyt out with these two women and two babies who were 1.5 months apart in age. Even though I had checked out on the intimate tip, m</span>y mind was still stirring about the rest of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I was drawn to the story. By this time, </span>Miss C’s visa expired, he wasn't marrying her, and she started saying things to him that were clearly suicidal. What he was telling me got worse and worse; to the point that he was scared to leave her alone with the kids.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And it was then that I decided to make a move.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A big move.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just hoped and hoped that I could pull it off....</span></div>
Eyes On The Prize (eyesOTP)http://www.blogger.com/profile/15947789188975040591noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1661945440022273897.post-28931711738761602582012-08-06T14:43:00.003-04:002012-08-07T01:07:42.494-04:00UPDATE: Should I Make That Call?<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">UPDATE TO MY POST ABOUT <a href="http://diaryofabrokeasswoman.blogspot.com/2012/07/should-i-do-it.html" target="_blank"><strong><span style="color: red;">MY GUN TOTING UNCLE</span></strong>:</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Well the call was made. Actually...a 'friend' made it because I was gonna send a fax. Why? Because sometimes...<em>sometimes...</em>when they hear your voice they don't take you seriously. They wanna quiz you and minimize what you are saying. Ya dig? Soooo...my "friend" said she would call. She told them everything that I told her. She told them about the guns and the hallucinations. Anonymously.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">So did anything happen...nope. Not yet anyway. I expected that after reading some comments on the original post and some other things I saw on the web. It actually might be my uncle that will get the cops over there all on his own anwyays. My cousin told me that he had been calling the cops himself telling them there were people in the house. He called twice that night he shot that pistol in the chimney. The cops asked my cuz was he taking his meds or whatever, but they told her that if he keeps calling them that they might take him to the psych ward. Now with the call being made maybe they will do just that if he calls them with his craziness again.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">They did finally have that appointment with the doctor tha he had been seeing. Doc said he is losing his memory, but it was a mild case of it? Not Alzheimer's but another kind of memory loss that occurs in aging people. She sounded relieved, like she finally had an explanation for the crazy shyt. Ok that's fine and good cuz, but what about the fact that he has three guns??? That man ain't forgettin' that he has them damn guns I bet. He will forget everything else but not that!!! Her reaction bothered the shyt out of me. When she told me about the memory loss I wanted to say,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>"<span style="color: blue;">WELL SHYT I'M LOSING MY MEMORY TOO DAMMIT!</span> But I ain't walking around talking about radio waves being transmitted in my house by terrorists! Nor am I walking around with a gun! So what he is losing his memory. What about his dangerous behavior?" </em></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">But I didn't say it. She is going thru it and I am trying hard to be sympathetic to that. I just sat there and listened and kept my mouth shut. Jaw tight and annoyed. She went on to say that the doc <em>"might prescribe meds and Dad seemed to be onboard."</em> Yawn.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">So again...nothing from them. No real action taken. They just gonna wait on these wonder pills to fix my uncle's head I guess. What kills me is that they never told the doc about him having the gun, because they know if they had then he would be in the hospital now. It is annoying that they are not telling the doctor because they are interfering with him getting the help that he needs. They are so busy worrying about help being locked up for the gun. I called the mental health hotline in their state after I hung up with her. The woman told me that they would not lock him up for the gun if he is "sick". Even with his felony conviction, his mental status would override the criminal part of things...until he did something of course. For now though, he would be okay if they committed him and told them that he had a gun. When I hung up I was even more pissed. I asked myself why my cousin couldn't make that simple fkn call like I just made? It's just dumb. The whole thing is just dumb. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Anyway...the call got placed from my end. What else can I do? And I confess, I actually smiled to myself. I felt weird about feeling that way about the call being made, but I honestly did smile to myself after my 'friend' told me she called. I guess I felt relieved that I had tried to do something. I bet that my cousin would feel the same way too. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Now it's on the cops. Whether or not the cops do anything it's on them. So with that being wiI moved on. Until yesterday....</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">It was out of my mind until I heard about that shooting that happened this weekend in Wisconsin. I cringed. My uncle lives in that area. He was talking about Middle Eastern men trying to get in his house. I was like, "Damn, I hope that is not my uncle."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I hurried to scan the news stories and when I saw that it was a White guy I exhaled. I mean the situation was still bad whoever did it or whatever color he was, but at least I knew it wasn't my uncle. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">So that's it for now. If I hear something else I'll have the cops called again. It's not over just because I made that one call. I know that. It all depends on what I hear, though </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I'm not sure how much my cousin will tell me now. She has been staying with her kids at her mom's house lately. And she can hear it in my voice that I ain't cosigning what she is doing. She texted me Monday asking what to say to him because she had found two of the guns and had moved them. He was badgering her about whether she let someone in the house or not:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"><em>Cuz: "My dad keeps asking me who I let in the house or/and believes I have the guns, what would you respond?"</em></span><br />
<em><br /></em><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"><em>Me: "Is he really amped up?"</em></span><br />
<em><br /></em><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"><em>Cuz: "Yep. And he has one more and said he thinks he has a shot gun and a be be gun at the office but couldn't remember."</em></span><br />
<em><br /></em><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"><em>Me: "U asked him about the other guns or he just volunteered that info?"</em></span><br />
<em><br /></em><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"><em>Cuz: "He volunteered. How would you respond?"</em></span><br />
<em><br /></em><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"><em>Me: "Well first why u think he volunteered that?"</em></span><br />
<em><br /></em><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"><em>Cuz: "I don't know! But he did used to have one in his office a long time ago."</em></span><br />
<em><br /></em><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"><em>Me:" All I can say is call the doctor because they already told you to take him to the county. If he is amped up there is nothing you can say to him that will ease his mind now. </em></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"><em>Maybe the doc can tell you what to say because cuz I have been saying for days what needs to happend to get him some help. That attorney meant well but he is not a mental health doctor. Besides telling him that you took them for everyone's safety I don't know what else you can say. </em></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"><em>Or ask the attorney since it was his big idea to wait five days for the doctor appointment."</em></span><br />
<em><br /></em><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"><em>Cuz: " I thought about telling him that my gun is gone too...reverse psychology."</em></span><br />
<em><br /></em><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"><em>Me: "How so?"</em></span><br />
<em><br /></em><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"><em>Cuz: "If only his gun was gone and not mine, a thief would have found mine too."</em></span><br />
<em><br /></em><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"><em>Me: "And knowing a thief took it will calm his nerves?"</em></span><br />
<em><br /></em><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"><em>Cuz: "Sarcasm! Remember he's delusional. He thinks people are and have been coming in the house for years. It's not about calming his nerves, he's never calm."</em></span><br />
<em><br /></em><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"><em>Me: "I dunno cuz. I think would just feed into his delusional mind....</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"><em>"U just let me know when you are ready to make the call. Besides that, I don't know what to do with someone in that condition. None of us do."</em></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">And then there was silence.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Why you asking me what to tell your mentally ill pops? You ain't been listening to me so I ain't got shyt else to say on it. What the fluck? Cuz needs to be asking the doctor and not me or that damn attorney. That's why I said what I said. <strong>Ask the expert.</strong> Or let me know when you want to make the call. That's pretty much it. I can't advise her except to suggest that he get professional help.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Anyways....we will see. I just hope it doesn't blow up in their faces.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: lime; font-family: Trebuchet MS; font-size: x-small;">** Big hug to those of you who shared your opinions and stories. That helped a LOT!</span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>Eyes On The Prize (eyesOTP)http://www.blogger.com/profile/15947789188975040591noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1661945440022273897.post-42414733751128406492012-07-26T17:29:00.000-04:002012-07-27T18:46:41.776-04:00How is it possible....<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">That in a city of millions,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">On the busiest street in NYC,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I see you this morning. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Riding up the escalator out of the subway. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Bright shirt.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">That mint, oceany-blue collared shirt caught my eye I guess. I always look at the bruhs in the collared shirts.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">But this time I looked at the wrong one.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">You didn't see me. I looked twice to be sure. But it was definitely you.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">That mouth. That gray in your goatee. It was you.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Damn.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I blocked you from my phone. From my email. Everything. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">But I can't block you in this huge damn town?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I just want to forget you.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">But you appear. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">In a city of millions. </span><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">At the busiest subway stop in Manhattan. In the morning rush hour.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Usually everyone is a blur. I look at very few people.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">But that goddamn shirt made me look.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Why was yo' azz was in that pretty, bright shirt?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Reminding me of all the f*cked up shyt you did.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Reminding me of all the f*cked up shyt you said.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Reminding me. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Ruining the <span style="color: black;">swagger</span> I had going in the new Calvin Klein dress I bought yesterday.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">You wrecked my flow.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">But....</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">No matter how mint-y looking your shirt is,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Or how well groomed your hair was, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Or how crispy the creases in your pants were...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I know what's inside.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">You're still a monster.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">And I hate that I saw you today.</span><br />
<br />Eyes On The Prize (eyesOTP)http://www.blogger.com/profile/15947789188975040591noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1661945440022273897.post-80582859206217516052012-07-24T13:29:00.002-04:002012-07-25T21:30:17.996-04:00Should I Make That Call....Or Not?<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif";">I was all ready to post the latest with Shallow Hal, dating, dream thieves...I really was.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif";">But then that movie shootout in Colorado happened. </span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif";">And ever since, something has been on my mind. Well rather, SOMEONE has been on my mind. And that's my uncle.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">Why? Because he is losing his mind. And I think he might hurt somebody.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">Ever since he had a stroke maybe ten years ago, he hasn't been quite right. I live 900 miles away now and I don't check in as much, but when I do the news is rarely good. His 35 year marriage ended after he accused my aunt over and over of trying to steal from him and kill him. He would attack her and constantly accuse her of conspiring against him. I think he even pulled a gun on her, and she finally just gave up on being around him. Even while they were married, he had a girlfriend for maybe like 15 years or so. Yeah my aunt probably knew, but she just rode it out I guess? He was the bread winner, and she worked in the business that he built himself. </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">Funny thing though, this girlfriend is the same age as his daughter (my cousin)! He's probably 30 years older than her. And how my cousin found out about her was really whack too. I remember back in like the early 90s my cousin was telling about how she went to a club one night and this girl kept staring her down. Mean mugging her and everythang. Eventually the girl walked over to her and was like,</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">"Are you Such and Such?"</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">And my cousin was like, "Yeah. I'm Such and Such. Why?"</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">Smirking the chick replies, "Well I'm your father's girlfriend and I just had his baby. How you like that?"</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">"Well what you telling me for?"</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">"I'm just letting you know that's all. We got a baby together."</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Not knowing what to say, my cousin replies, "Ok. What you want me to say."</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">"Um, it ain't nothing nobody can say or do now. I got his baby."</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">And she walked away and disappeared into the crowd. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">Although my cousin didn't say much else to the girl, I think it did affect her forever. It triggered the beginning of her not trusting men in relationships. She carried that mistrust into her marriage and even with all that control she tried to put in place, hubby still cheated on her anyway. Now I think she is awful...borderline ridiculous even. For the past 20 years she had evolved into a background checking fool when it comes to a dude. She will check court records, real estate records, employment records, find out where you live, how you live, marriage records....anything she can get her hands on or find out over the internet. She will even call the dude's job to make sure he really works there. And alla this even before a second date! For real! I wish I was lying but I'm not. Lemme tell you, when my cousin asks a man something and he might think it is just casual converstaion, with her it probably isn't. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">Ok so back to her dad. So he was still messing with the girlfriend for all those years while he was married, and when his marriage broke up, the girlfriend moved in. They rocked it out for a few years, but his mental instability started to kick in and he eventually ran her out the house too. It was the same thing pretty much. Hallucinating and paranoid about being watched, and he took his accustations to the next level and said that now the girlfriend <strong><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">and </span></strong>the ex wife were conspiring together to kill him and take all his money. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">So that's two people he ran out of the house. Why in the world my cousin thinks she would be different up in there I dunno. She moved in last year with her two kids. I told her it was a dumb move for a number of reasons but she wouldn't listen. I mean I know people move back in with their parents or whatever for financial reasons or to help care for them, but it wasn't about that with her really. She got money. She ain't hurting for nothing. She owns properties and has some nice investments. I think she just don't wanna pay rent because that would be the case if she got her own place. In fact, she has never paid rent ANYWHERE. EVER!!!! The house that her and hubby lived in, her father bought. She moved out of it because she didn't like the area anymore, so she rents it out and puts that money in her pocket. She's a little pampered princess who never really cut the umbilical cord. I think that was one of the things ex-hubby hated about their relationship. Too much influence from her parents and my cuz didn't want to do really do her own thing. It's always like, "What would my dad think?" or "What would my mom say?" Hell it even annoys me so I can't imagine what is was like for the ex-hubby. Anyways, she is up in the house with her dad who she has witnessed first hand go thru his mental moments.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">So again, there is my uncle and I'm starting to hear some off the chain reports on his deteriorating mental state. I was speaking to my cousin a while back and she told me how locked himself in the garage because he thought somebody was trying to kill him. He stayed in there six hours. Inside that garage he had a gun with him too. I don't know how they got him to come out but they did. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">Two weeks ago I saw his son at a picnic. When I asked about my uncle, I could see the strain in his face. He was worried. He says to me, "Oh he's doing okay. I just wish I could get that gun from him."</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">Huh? How is he okay and in the <u>same sentence</u> you talking about him carrying a gun? And how you wish to get it away from him? But yet he is okay? <span style="color: blue;"><strong>Um, HE IS NOT OKAY....OKAY????</strong></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">I was annoyed. I didn't want to hear anymore. I just walked away and made me plate of food. Although I was annoyed I just let it pass and put it out of my mind. </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><br /><br />For months and maybe even years now they have been trying to <em><span style="color: blue;">convince</span></em> my uncle to volunteer to go to hospital. I don't know where they got this idea, but I guess they can get him into a private place if he volunteers. If you force him, things get complicated because it becomes legal matter to get him out. But of course he won't go. Duh!!!! He thinks he is just fine. I asked my cousin why won't they just have him taken there unwillingly. She says that they don't want to do that because he will go to a county hospital with "just anybody off the streets in there and he will have a different doctor and nurse everyday. The private hospital is better." Then I asked her,</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">"Well if he volunteers, can't he sign himself out also? If he can then what's the point?"</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">Her reply: 'I don't know about that. Good question."</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">I wanted to scream! This man is walking around with a pistol and clearly delusional, and you want him to VOLUNTEER FOR TREATMENT??? And he might even be able to walk out if he refuses to sign papers and shyt? Really girl....you think you gonna <em><span style="color: blue;">convice</span></em> a mentally ill person that he needs help? You can't REASON with people like that most times. Especially a 70 year old man who is set in his ways that you probably can't tell anything to anyway even if he was sane. And for the past year you have been trying to REASON and TALK with him to go on his own? All because you don't want him to go to the county hospital? You would rather him be on the streets with all kinds of mental triggers because you rather he go to the <span style="background-color: yellow;">country club hospital</span> instead?</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">I just held in my frustrations and let it go.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">Then the thing happened at the movies in Colorado. I listened to the news reports.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";"><span style="color: red;">That guy was delusional.</span> <em><span style="color: blue;">My uncle is delusional.</span> </em></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";"><span style="color: red;">That guy had access to weapons.</span> <em><span style="color: blue;">My uncle has access to a weapon. At least the one that we know about.</span></em></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">All weekend I kept thinking about my uncle. The more I heard about the movie shooting, the more I thought about him. I knew he wasn't better. He couldn't be. He wasn't getting any treatment. I hadn't heard anything new, but at the same time I told myself <em>don't ask about anything new</em>. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";"> "You don't wanna know. Let them handle that. You got too much shyt going on."</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">The self talk only worked for about a day though. I went against what I told myself and dove into the pool anyway. So y</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">esterday </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">I checked in with my cuz with the intention of getting an update (on the sly) on how my uncle was doing. But I didn't need to do much prying. The second sentence out of her mouth was about that my uncle is getting worse. She said she hadn't slept and that he was <strong>really, really bad</strong>. She said that now he thinks that terrorists have placed electronic devices in the backyard, and that his ex-wife and ex-girlfriend have put voodoo on him. Then it got even more bizarre and scary. This past Saturday, he went on the roof of his house and was looking down the chimney to see if these so-called 'terrorists' had put something in it. Electronic bombs or monitoring devices apparently. He thought they were trying to get in his house thru the chimney. He went up there with his gun...</span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">and fired it. </span></span></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">I almost fell out of my chair. My heart was pounding in my chest. I was scared. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">I dunno but somehow they got him down and shoved him into the house before he could fire it again. They tried but he wouldn't let go of the gun. I guess no one else heard it or bothered to call the cops, and neither did my cousins. Instead, they continued to try to convince him to check himself into the hospital. And of course he said no.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">So all day yesterday I am communicating with her about my uncle. Trying to get them to get over this fear of the county hospital and get the man some help. Then my cousin says, "Well he has a doctor's appointment next week."</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">NEXT WEEK!!!??????????????????</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">Are you serious!!! Y'all seriously gonna wait until next fuggin' week when this man fired his pistol on top of his roof 48 hours ago? </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">I can't believe what I'm hearing. As I'm communicating with her, I'm telling myself more and more,</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">"F*ck this. I'm gonna call the cops myself. From 900 miles away. I'm gonna call the cops. He might kill somebody or kill himself. I can't just let them pussyfoot around this because over dumb shyt like the hospital ain't cute enough." </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">But then I sit back and think, "If I do that, the family will hate me. They will say it was none of my business and that his children were handling it. It wasn't my business."</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">As I go back and forth trying to decide on what I was gonna do, I try to plead with her. I tell her that if he does something to someone they will regret it for the rest of their lives because they KNEW he had a problem and they KNEW he walked around with a loaded gun. I tell her that going to jail will be worse if he shoots it and someone reports it. I tell her that when the cops see a Black man on the end of a pistol, they shoot first and ask questions later. He will probably be killed. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">I ask her again why they are waiting to take him to the hospital. She tells me that she is waiting on her brother to decide what to do but he is in denial. I tell her don't do that. Don't put it all on him. Her brother is not a professional or a doctor. She is tryin' to pass the buck. YOU DO SOMETHING SISTA GIRL. YOU!!!!</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">I ask, "Why don't you step up cuz and call? I don't get it."</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">"I can't. I live with him and he will never trust me again." </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">(to myself)</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><em><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">But you'd rather spend your days worrying what he might do with that damn gun? What if he sees some random Pakistani man in the street and thinks he is the one trying to mess with his chimney? Because you live with him? Dumb bullshyt azz reason. </span></em></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">I can't reply. I'm trying not to piss her off or make her feel bad. I seek permission instead.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">"I'll call. My uncle can hate me. I'm fine with that."</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">But she doesn't take my offer or acknowledge it.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">"I'll make some calls. We want him in a private hospital though. We don't wanna call the cops."</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">(taps fingers on desk)</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">This is bullshyt! Pure bullshyt. Is the boogey man at the damn county hospital or something? WTF!!!! And now I know too much. Too much that if something happened I would ALSO REGRET NOT OPENING MY MOUTH. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would be just as lame as they are for seeing this train coming and not trying to stop it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>I don't wanna live with that. </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">I just don't. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">Just like the mom of that shooter in Colorado has to do. I just don't wanna live with knowing I could have stopped something serious from happening to him or to someone else. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But don't get me wrong --- I get it. My cousins are too emotionally connected and are stalling. It's their Dad. But it’s too much talking right now among everybody and not enough <u>doing.</u></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">Should I call the cops myself and have everybody hate me? Or should I let them handle it?</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today I made a proclamation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I said that if my uncle is not in that county hospital in 24 hours, whether my cousin takes him or the cops take him,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;">I will call myself</span>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">All the way from NY. </span>I will call my damn self.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">(shaking head)</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But is it up to me really? Is it my business to handle?</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What should I do?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What should I do? </span></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(insert sad face)</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "sans-serif";">Sigh. Going to the gym…..</span></span>Eyes On The Prize (eyesOTP)http://www.blogger.com/profile/15947789188975040591noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1661945440022273897.post-53361866036325833442012-06-27T12:26:00.001-04:002012-06-27T14:24:32.882-04:00Kick Me<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Yeah I know. I'm falling off my game.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Man, this month has been kicking my azz! </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Out of nowhere my clients for the side biz were on me for this and that, </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Then I was trying to manage this new dude I was kicking with, </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Then I am trying to sell out this crap I have in storage shyt from my closed business,</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Then I had the IRS audit, </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Then I'm doing mystery shopping, </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">And then finding time to get my weekly dose of Shallow Hal's drama...I am just swamped. I am doing waayyy too much and it's sickening. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I think I can pull something off this Saturday though. Probably just gonna resume the Shallow Hal story cuz that fool is just ridiculous. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Miss C was talking about killing herself and the babies. Geezus. Shyt is so bad. So bad.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">But my own life is a trip on it's own that I can't even focus on his azz right now. I think I have a problem saying no to stuff, and just add to my plate knowing FULL WELL I don't have time.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">My apartment looks like hell. Car ain't been washed. Finally washed clothes Sunday that ain't been washed since the end of April. Now let's see how long it will take me to fold them up and put them away. LOL. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I'll go for days with no sheets on the damn bed, so then I'll sleep on the couch and then wake up with my neck and shoulders all f*cked up.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Maybe if I write about it I'll fix the situation and slow down. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">For starters, I'm gonna get a massage after work before I go bartend tonight. My neck is killing me. </span><br />
<br />Eyes On The Prize (eyesOTP)http://www.blogger.com/profile/15947789188975040591noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1661945440022273897.post-50836836152665465952012-05-22T13:17:00.002-04:002012-05-22T16:26:56.276-04:00"Who You Callin' A Bytch?" : Standoff in the Subway<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s Friday evening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rush hour in NYC.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The weekend is here and I am the last person left in the office at work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After much debate, I decide to skip going to happy hour even though the weather was nice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a hard decision because the energy in the air was crazy and the city was electric.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What changed my mind was that I was loaded down with bags and my laptop and I didn’t feel like lugging all that crap <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>into a bar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am always, always, always losing shyt and it always happens when I have a lot of shyt with me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In a three month period:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I lost my tip jar in a bar – DRUNK</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I lost my $284 bus non-refundable fkn bus pass</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I lost my wallet on a trip to Houston…which had the SECOND $284 bus pass that I had just replaced</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And then last week I lost my damn driver’s license.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The one I had just replaced not even a month before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just have too much shyt in my bag and too many things on my mind and it is just causing chaos in my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I opted to just be corny and slooooowwww down and take my azz home. No happy hour that night. I was just gonna clean up and drop the load of stuff I was carrying on both my shoulders.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Things are pretty ordinary at first. I’m standing on the subway platform and it’s not very crowded, but after a few minutes I sensed something was wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The trains were not coming into the station and the platform was filling with people very quickly. In NYC trains come every couple minutes to shuttle the people out of the station, but by the time I had waited about eight minutes for the train, the platform was packed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Not cool.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And of course this would happen when I have another train to catch in less than 15 minutes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">There's pushing and shoving of course when the train finally arrives, and I squeeze myself onto it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Still n</span>o biggie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> It happens. </span>I am only going two stops but I take a minute to read some mail that was in my bag.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Again, no biggie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Four minutes later </span>I’m at my stop, but nobody is moving off the car it seems.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No bueno. I have a train to catch in less than 10 minutes!!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Newsflash. You gotta keep it moving on the subway okay?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>People get off, people get on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> The door opens and you have like two seconds to make a decision. </span>That’s it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But for some reason on this occassion, nobody is moving?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> The door is open. The clock is ticking. And I gotta go!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I search for the source of the problem. I see this blond chick in the doorway who seems to be confused as to what to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You could tell that it wasn’t her stop, and she wasn’t sure about moving onto the platform so that people could get off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Maybe she was afraid she wasn't gonna get back on. </span>The train was packed and the platform had hundreds of people waiting, and she was in the doorway trying to figure the shyt out. What was probably only a few seconds she tried to work it out in her mind, but it seemed like minutes to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Precious minutes that I needed to use to get to my train, which was a <em>long azz</em> New York City block away. </span>Eventually this guy behind me says, “I wanna get off.” He was directing it at the people near the door. Still the blond lady looks confused and is still in the damn doorway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I see her and say in a normal voice, “Move onto the platform.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I called myself trying to coach her I guess.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">But who responds?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some muthafucca who was standing behind that lady waiting for her to move too. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">He barks, “Just wait a minute! <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We can’t move if there are other people in front of us!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just wait!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">He was angry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Loud.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nasty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I honestly didn’t hear everything that he said exactly, but I did notice his tone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> He seemed really hot and bothered. </span>At first it didn’t even affect me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I've seen plently of pissy people in my life and on the subway. Plus nowadays I am slow to react with things sometimes (a big fault of mine), and his level of stank-ocity didn't register fully. </span>All I was thinking about was making my train honestly, and I literally had minutes to get to it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I didn't focus on him and how he sounded. I wanted to get off.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So I wait again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The guy next to me waits too. Still....NOBODY MOVES.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Then the guy behind me says it again, “I wanna get off.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This time a little louder and with more frustration in his voice.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I chime in. “Excuse me, I need to get off.” My voice was even and calm. I wasn't upset yet.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Then the same stank white guy says something again. Again he is way too mad about the situation, but I don’t hear it all because finally there is some movement in the car.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m just trying to get off and I was focusing on that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I say, “I’m sorry but I have a train to catch" as I moved my way towards the door.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><em>And at that moment the situation went left.</em><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Way left. </span>The guy and the blond chick finally moved their azzes out to the platform. He positions himself near the subway door so he can step back on after people get off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I pass him to get off the train, he screams at the top of his lungs....</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Awww why don’t you shut up you f*ckin’ bitch!!!!”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I stop dead in my tracks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span>SAY WHAT!!!!!!!!?????????? </span>At that point, it was over. I mean <strong>really over. </strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I turn around and although he is not making eye contact with me, I can see his pasty face with his jaws tightened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Oh you mad huh? You wanna see mad? </span>You want to take me from zero to 20 in a millisecond, call me a bytch for no reason and you'll see mad real quick.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">In an instant I transformed into the Incredible Hulk, Medusa, and The Exorcist combined. I was not me and I was not in control.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I get in his face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I mean <u>right in his face</u>. And with a</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> deep, throaty growl I hollered, </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: red;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Who you callin’ a bitch….......</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">BITCH!!!!?”</span></span></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisXhLwTnI5EalnK3hgZ-iGGALivoJCwCXVHJQyT6fp_3qE7nPtoNIho2gJmDRIht9sQ0hTRVCvjshT3H9D8X2kxr7f35vnP2j239yNAm8VaNOBma4nrn0MVXQ9uG2A_UuqMYh1FDUQMnU/s1600/medusa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" qba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisXhLwTnI5EalnK3hgZ-iGGALivoJCwCXVHJQyT6fp_3qE7nPtoNIho2gJmDRIht9sQ0hTRVCvjshT3H9D8X2kxr7f35vnP2j239yNAm8VaNOBma4nrn0MVXQ9uG2A_UuqMYh1FDUQMnU/s1600/medusa.jpg" /></a></div>
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I was loud. I said that so loud it strained my throat. <span style="font-family: Calibri;">I stayed in his face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then something rumbled inside of me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From the pit of my stomach, the monster grew and erupted, and before I even knew what was happening --- I pushed him with my body.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I see his face tighten with anger.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He steps backward to push me with his body.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <em>You pushed me back?</em> Really? And before I could think...</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>I hit him.</strong><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With my balled up fist I hit him.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I saw him flinch as my fist landed on his body.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hear people on the platform gasp, and someone was saying, “Hey, hey, hold on there.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I was ready. No way was he gonna insult me like that over some bullshyt. NOT TODAY.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">He didn't make another move though, and before I knew it he had walked back into the train. </span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He didn’t say another word either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He just stood there, holding the pole in the train, looking in another direction.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He did not make eye contact with me, and strangely the anger in his face had downshifted to neutral? Just a quickly as this azzhole blew up, he went into an emotionless stance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My face was still full of anger though, and I was ready for his azz.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How dare you call me a bitch over the fact that I want to get off the train?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The damn lady was the fuckin’ problem, not him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe she was with him and he was defending her…who knows. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All I know is that the situation didn’t call for him yelling at me like that and I was ready to fight his azz over it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bags on my shoulders and all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">When I saw that he wasn’t gonna make another move and that he had created some distance between us, I started to walk away. A booming “MUTHAFUCCA!!!!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> roared from my lips. I was hot as hell! </span>I saw people looking at me but I didn’t give a f*ck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was steamed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After that chick punked me in the subway last year<span style="color: purple;"> <a href="http://diaryofabrokeasswoman.blogspot.com/2011/12/rewind-standoff-in-subway.html" target="_blank">(Standoff in the Subway),</a></span> and that dude tried to pick on me at the movie, I wasn’t having it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just wasn’t.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I made it to my train, but honestly I felt that I should have stayed on that damn subway and decked that muthafucca.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I know that's not cool to think that way, but I did for a few minutes. I know people in NYC are crazy but he was totally out of line. </span>People keep pushing me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the street.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the bar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the movies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I never told that story on the blog did I? About how some random man felt he was gonna f*ck with me because I was by myself in the movies one day?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oooh….boy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">(jaw tightening as I remember that incident)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Don’t these people know that I take boxing classes and that I am a muthafuccin’ NINJA in a dress????<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">LOL.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Anyway people pass out the bytch word way too much these days, and honestly these men have such blatant disrespect for women now that it’s just ridiculous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That dude knew I meant business and opted to close his mouth as he held that pole waiting for the door to close. He should have closed his mouth in the first f*ckin' place. For real. The situation didn't have to go there and he was being a damn azzhole.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><em>“Who you callin’ a bitch?”</em></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Not me dammit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s for sure.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I just hope next time this happens I don't lose it again. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: xx-small;">(I need some brass knuckles in my life.)</span></div>
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<br /></div>Eyes On The Prize (eyesOTP)http://www.blogger.com/profile/15947789188975040591noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1661945440022273897.post-18318303185446028932012-05-15T17:45:00.004-04:002012-05-16T11:32:30.784-04:00Interview with a Dog Readers: Selfish Thrill Seekers<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">I had made a post and published it, but trying to be fancy and do things from my phone the repost came up blank.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I lost the whole post and I was so annoyed that I just left it alone for a minute. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">So let me try it again since my jets have cooled down a little bit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A thousand other things have gone thru my head since then but I do think I need to come back and finish where I left off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am sitting here in the Dominican Republic in this boring azz airport so I am gonna take this time to rewrite my post.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">More on my solo trip to unchartered international territory at a later time.</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have this group of brothers sitting in the chairs behind me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I bet they were here looking at Dominican ass all week – a man trip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From what one of them was saying it may have been a bachelor trip?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hear talk of license and tuxedos and what not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe one of them is marrying a Dominican chick?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I dunno.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They kinda look to be in my age range too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hope they don’t lean over and ask me what I am typing, because if they do they might become a part of this blog post.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Depending on what they say and how much I start drinking, things could go way to the left so I better be careful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m just gonna keep writing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have been getting mistaken for being Dominican all week, so maybe they think I don’t know English and won’t talk to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>LOL.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s cool with me! </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">HOLD UP. They are back there whispering about their trip now. Shhhh!!! I'm just gonna peck on the keys and act like I'm typing so that I can hear what they are saying. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">(pauses to listen)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Ok I'm back. The were talking about typical man vacation shyt:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><em>"Man, she was good."</em> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><em>"She wanted more money."</em> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><em>"You do the 69?"</em></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><em>"Nah, I wasn't gonna taste that shyt."</em> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">(laughter)</span><br />
<br />
<em>"What was the name of that spot again?"</em><br />
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<em>"The Ali Baba".</em><br />
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(more laughter)</div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><em>"Man did we have the best time or what?"</em></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Etc. Etc. I peeped one of them. Yeah I see why he had to pay for some azz. Ugh. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">What the hell goes on at the Ali Baba? I would Google it but I have my work laptop with me and no telling what might come up. I'll see what pops up from my phone. I'm sooooo nosey!!!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3EXdxuasLo2_NFERTY-poMBRYhuetWT_cQNqVs6d5X25UosNzoxkjA0LH_2FXLvZxY4gXT-N1n8QaaXfueqQQeCJhsfsXj50Z_-ZI-H3vxiK18cf46r2rpWJkEZfrz70VIh1QViYUVfU/s1600/wink.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3EXdxuasLo2_NFERTY-poMBRYhuetWT_cQNqVs6d5X25UosNzoxkjA0LH_2FXLvZxY4gXT-N1n8QaaXfueqQQeCJhsfsXj50Z_-ZI-H3vxiK18cf46r2rpWJkEZfrz70VIh1QViYUVfU/s1600/wink.jpg" /></a><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Where was I? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Last I wrote that I was gonna stop writing about the Shallow Hal story because I felt that I was thinking too much about certain replies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thinking waayyy too much about it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I tend to obsess on things and it was becoming counter-productive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Then I was encouraged.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was so overwhelmed by the comments on that post that I was floored!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think I got the most comments I ever received in over two years of writing on this blog. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know there are followers but you never really know if they read or not, and people who <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">have never</b> commented took a few minutes to send me something.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That was so cool.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was so overwhelmed!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I’m back to reply because I think it would be messed up if I didn’t acknowledge the comments I received.</span></div>
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<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">THANK YOU!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">The blog fam came out and said some wonderful things to me - not so much about the Shallow Hal drama, but about my writing and that they liked it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They spoke to me beyond the story and acknowledged my feelings about things and my life, and some even reminded me about the purpose of my blog in general. It was all cool.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was all good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It made me feel better and I exhaled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">(exhales)</span><br /><br />But in the back of my mind, I knew it wouldn’t last. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Everyone doesn’t send me messages on the blog you know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>People have contacted me thru email asking me different things about business or about how they can relate to things I post.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It ranges.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I usually don’t talk about what comes thru the backdoor on this blog, but this time I am gonna break that rule.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let’s call him Mr. Thoughtful Reader.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="background: #fce5cd; color: black; font-family: "Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Hey You<br />I'm reading your blog as I write this right now as a matter of fact not finished yet. Not that it matters but at least this happened in December instead of now - I so hope you listen to some of your thoughtful readers, you did not respond to them just to the thrill seekers who luv train wrecks. I do too obviously but not when its a friend. <br />If nothing else you should do something with your writing skills your better than a lot of folks that publish. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">(So I guess all of those comments I got are from you </span><b><span style="font-size: 18pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">thrill seekers.</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>)</span></div>
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<span style="background: #fce5cd; color: black; font-family: "Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">ME:</span></div>
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<span style="background: #fce5cd; color: black; font-family: "Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Nope not gonna respond to criticism comments bc that snowballs and goes into a back and forth. I addressed them all technically in the current post. I respond to who I want. Lol. </span></div>
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<span style="background: #fce5cd; color: black; font-family: "Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Thank u for the compliment on the writing. Actually some of the other bloggers write just as well to me????</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">(Then I posted again and say that I am not gonna write about Shallow Hall anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once I saw the positive comments coming through, I knew it wouldn’t be too long before I saw an email from him.)</span></div>
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<span style="background: #fce5cd; color: black; font-family: "Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Hello<br />Even though I stumbled on your blog in the beginning because of the avatar you used in the paper, your writing kept me coming back. Just finished reading your stuff and although I might not be your earliest reader I'm up there, you already know I luv the way you right and titillate, and consider you a "friend". <br />You should make a distinction between those responding as a reader, in which case why do they care what you write as long as it's interesting, and a virtual friend who sees your actions contradicting everything I know about you. Not to mention how it felt to you when you found the tin man and the others cheating on you. I think even you know that something ain't right on so many levels, your too intelligent not to. When you read what you wrote in the light of day you seem contrite, hence you stop. Yes we all have done bad things - but to do so, so shamelessly as if your writing about someone else is hard to understand. When you add your blatant disregard for 2 other pregnant females as if your just doing what comes natural it reaches a whole another level. Your other "loyal" readers - if you wrote that you banged your whole office and then went home and did your half sister and the dog they would be on the edge of their seats for the next installment.<br />PS: I have several Google accounts but prefer taking this off line.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">(Yeah okay you take everything offline since you can’t be Anonymous on the blog.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whatever.)</span></div>
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<span style="background: #fce5cd; color: black; font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">ME:</span></div>
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<span style="background: #fce5cd; color: black; font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I'm gonna post this on the blog because this is where it needs to be.</span></div>
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<span style="background: #fce5cd; color: black; font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">This is why I wrote that post. This email right here. It's like you WANT PEOPLE TO CRTICIZE ME. You didn't like that I didn't respond to the criticism, and you minimize the people who have not expressed an opinion and just want to read the story. It's like you want me to get beat up virtually or something, and you only cosign the critical comments.</span></div>
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<span style="background: #fce5cd; color: black; font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I don't know how you figure you're acting as friend because you just won't quit with the criticism. I heard you several times before already on this. Again, if you don't approve then don't read. You can have your opinions. Like I said on the blog, just keep them to yourself. I'm good.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">See how he takes note to the fact that I didn’t respond to the <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">thoughtful readers</b> and only to the thrill seekers? He seems to frown when I only respond to the lighter comments.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I already know what it’s like to go back and forth with him, so why the f*ck would I do it with more people?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">I finally had to ask myself why was I trying to keep his comments private when I posted my shyt PUBLICLY on the blog? It didn’t make sense anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">All I know is that the locker room talk is done and this will no longer be a private conversation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If we gonna talk about anything that I posted on this blog, then on this blog is where it will be discussed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And that’s that. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">--------------------></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">They are calling me to board my flight. Now I get to look at the other brothers in this crew. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><em>(turn to glance and pretend to look towards one of the airport stores)</em></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Hmmm...one of them looks pretty good. I actually saw a lot of nice looking Dominican men here this week though. I'm definitely coming back. I liked passing for Dominican. Once I start speaking in my fugged up Spanish my cover gets blown though. LOL. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Anyways...the attention was cool. I got to practice my Spanish. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIpCCp1EC5W4cLQYupu16gM4THEbTTEQ6_3hHCZMvXU6JcPeYz5a689yQwJrCgf0EUjFNzgOfYR5pns3bSpOgYO-rnXSbO86UTt4UFWpDuwutLguaFrSxb0xuH4yb-SfPvvhIwh18OclM/s1600/Dominican-Mami.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="188" kba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIpCCp1EC5W4cLQYupu16gM4THEbTTEQ6_3hHCZMvXU6JcPeYz5a689yQwJrCgf0EUjFNzgOfYR5pns3bSpOgYO-rnXSbO86UTt4UFWpDuwutLguaFrSxb0xuH4yb-SfPvvhIwh18OclM/s200/Dominican-Mami.gif" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">As for the Shallow Hal posts, I'll think on it. I'll think on it and maybe go ahead with it since I started the damn series????<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> So hey, maybe Shallow Hal is not over after all?? At times I have to take a break from hearing about his shyt cuz he is just hard to take. I think that's why it takes so long for me to put the posts together.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Plus </span>I do have other things to talk about besides his azz.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><em>(to self...Hal or no Hal. Hal or no Hal.)</em></span></div>Eyes On The Prize (eyesOTP)http://www.blogger.com/profile/15947789188975040591noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1661945440022273897.post-66002855116380179312012-04-21T20:51:00.002-04:002012-04-22T09:08:09.209-04:00Interview with a Dog: Revelation<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">"That's when Shallow Hal reveals something to me that even I couldn't take..."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">That's the last sentence I wrote in the prior post. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I'm sitting here watching Dateline about a woman who knew her husband killed two people and didn't say anything about it for years. Eventually she did because the husband had viciously beat their young daughter. </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I'm sure that there are many that would tell her that she was wrong for not turning her husband in right away, even though she explained what caused her to delay. I'm sure she will always have someone that will not agree with her decision to keep her husband's secret.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">As for writing about Shallow Hal, the purpose was to somehow purge the events from my mind. But in doing that, the feedback is bothering me because no matter how many different ways I explain things, the judging will still be there. Like what I speak about is some new or unheard of shyt. Shallow Hal BEEN a dog; those two chicks BEEN in the picture years before me. Nothing I do is <em>causing</em> anything. Shallow Hal does his own shyt and makes his own decisions. I ain't impacting a damn thing that man does with those two women. </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I'm just listening. And yeah...I screwed him too. But it ain't about his d*ck (actually he is pretty basic in the bed). It ain't about his money. I said what it was about and as I said before I don't have to explain it or make anyone understand. I could be like that woman and keep it to myself. I didn't though. I posted it to the world. Doesn't mean I'm proud about it. Do I sound like I'm proud about it?</span><br />
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<em>(oooh, I sound kinda angry don't I?)</em><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Posting it to the WORLD.....THE WORLD!!!!! Girl, that doesn't seem to be helping me AT ALL lately. That's partly the point of this blog...or so I thought! I don't need to hear shyt about me. I pay someone to talk to me about my shyt. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Soooo...what I would have spoken about on the next blog would have been too much for some to handle I think. Yeah...it would be too much and I won't even take it there. I will go ahead and write the posts to serve MY PURPOSES, but it probably won't be published. What's the point? Anyway what I ended up doing I never thought I would do, but it don't matter. It's really my business anyway, I just put it out there. LOL. What the hell did I do THAT for?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">If I sat back and judged Shallow Hal, he would stop talking to me about it. So if someone judged me about something, then guess what...I would shut up about it too. <strong>Anyone would. Anyone. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Looks like I will do just that. I</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> have other stuff to talk about for the time being. I was working on that post last week. This Shallow Hal situation is dead for now.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Hmmmm, I can hear it now... </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Trebuchet MS;"><strong>"Well why you put it out there if you don't wanna hear someone's true opinion?"</strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">You know how you tell someone something and you just want them to listen --- and shut the f*ck up? That would be my answer to that. Also maybe because it is my personal shyt? Or maybe I never really asked for an opinion on me? The opinions about Shallow Hal and Miss C and Miss New York don't affect them because they don't know shyt about this blog. So talk about them all day. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">(giggle)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">In any case, as for the blog I am still shocked that people would actually read my baloney? :) Lost some people and gained a few but that's okay. Maybe I disgusted them too much, but that's cool. Move on if the blog bothers you or what I do bothers you. I guess that's what I'm doing essentially. Moving on from posts about Shallow Hal if publishing them ain't working for me right now.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Plus writing these blogs is pure labor. Organzing the stories and making it flow together is not easy at all! It takes a very long time to write those posts. I sure don't wanna feel any type of way about my posts after I spent hours putting them together.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Anyway who knows, I might change my mind about it. I'll talk to the therapist about it. </span><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I got mad other shyt going on with an IRS audit, my side biz, bartending, and my regular gig to have my heart flutter nervously whenever I get notified of a comment. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I guess I'm a sensitive wimp. No matter how old I get. Still sensitive. Still a weenie. Oh well. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Whew...I feel better already!!!!! The power of writing <span style="color: red;">is </span>really therapeutic.</span><br />
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<br />Eyes On The Prize (eyesOTP)http://www.blogger.com/profile/15947789188975040591noreply@blogger.com24