theincrediblyasininelylongupdatebroughttoyoubylenaandsashaspeerpressure.

1. Are you ready? Please by all means grab a bottle of wine, a 40, a cigarette, shit, even pop some popcorn....we could be here all day. And no I would not blame any fool for not ready the whole entry in its entirety.
   
   Aaaaahhhhhh where to begin...Let's see. It's not my fault, as usual that my update is going on two months. For those who know me, nothing is ever my fault, so it seems that I must stay true to myself and blame the following on this hella ridiculous delay:
   
   1. Nothing monumentally amusing has happened to me worth blogging about. Go figure. First for everything.
   
   2. I started going back to school this summer, and let me tell you something....if you are older than 22, I suggest you not pick an Art major. Go with Human Resources, Business, or something geriatric related. Because, I warn you, If you are 25 like my ass you will feel like a grandmother next to all these weed smoking, care free, black nail polish, flip flop wearing 17 year olds. My schedule has actually prevented me from writing as much...okay, writing at all. I'm in school 13 hours two days a week, then still have a night class, and squeezing in three ten hour days at work- exhausting. Getting to campus in downtown Atlanta is a patience hog all in it's own. Thought I was being smart by riding the schools shuttle bus (thanks for the warning Lena)- but fighting the herd to get on that is like fighting for free clean water in a third world country....speaking of third world countries....
   
   3. I am going on six, yes I said six months sharing my one bedroom apartment. B205 is starting to feel like a map for an I.N.S case worker. That's right, I said it. We are living like immigrants. Fuck you if you find that shit offensive, its the GE-YOD damn truth. I love my friends, my brother, and my mother, who have all taken turns staying for a period of time with me. But when it gets to a point that the $170.00 worth of adult fun stuff you buy is going unused because the bathroom is never available, there is always someone on your couch, or in your room....it's exhausting. Nevertheless, the more the merrier, and I am sure that I won't know what to do with myself once I am alone. Except maybe go through eight packs of batteries....speaking of toys....
   
   4. I bet some of you are wondering about the crotch rot. I really should stop calling J that since we are both clean (it cost me $867.48 to find that out- fuck you health insurance. I thought I paid $900 a quarter for a reason...) Is he still around? Drumroll please***************************************************************************************************************************************************um, yeah. While we still don't really hang out, he recently has informed me that the new car he bought is "our" car, he wants to work on getting back together, and telling me I need to be patient. I am patiently awaiting him to tell me he never told me any of those three things. Other than that, I really am just looking forward to my new battery operated collection.
   
   ***I have officially received the certified honest blogger award, and apparently it was done to put some fire under my ass- Thanks Sasha for that text, it woke the whole class up****
   
   
   
   

1. When you receive the prize you must write a post showing it, together with the name of who has given it to you, and link them back

2. Choose a minimum of 7 blogs (or even more) that you find brilliant in their content or design.

3. Show their names and links and leave them a comment informing they were prized with ‘Honest Weblog’

4. Show a picture of those who awarded you and those you give the prize (optional).

5. And then we pass it on!

So here goes...10 random things about me, that I hope I don't regret being honest about....

1. I hate people who litter. In fact if I was to predict ever a reason for going to jail, it would probably be over fighting with some fool that left the Mrs. Winners garbage all over my parking lot.
2. I love mayonnaise. Yeah I stole that from Sasha, but it's the truth. Thank god for Canola oil mayonnaise because now I can put even more on my french fries, sandwiches, and eggs...and not wish that I had some sort of gag reflex to go purge after I eat.
3. As someone who can be extremely "judgemental" and characterized as rude to a point, some people may find it hard to believe that I have difficulty saying no to a guy who asks for my number. If I tippy toe around the subject, and have exhausted my options for everything BUT saying no, and they still ask...I program them under the DON'T contact in my phone.
4. It took me only one situation to realize that if a man truly enjoys or expresses time and time again, to put in the poop chute, you might one day run into him with your gay best guy friend and piece it all together. Hopefully it won't take any of you one time.
5. One of my boobs is extremely larger than the other. Yep, I got a handful and a mouthful. They have been dubbed Biggie Smalls and I am convinced that I could place first and third simultaneously in any given wet t-shirt contest.
6. I am extremely emotional. Okay, again, maybe that was about as clear as day...but I can't remember the last time I watched Oprah, those incredible sad drunk driving commercials, The Pursuit of Happyness, and didn't ball my eyes out. I even pathetically weeped over Making the Band recently when Brian cried.
7. I, no matter how depressed I am, will listen to even MORE depressing music and STILL wonder why I can't get out of my emotional wreck less hole and want to slit my wrists. This does include country music. Shh.
8. I am the best drunk person ever. I am extremely good at keeping the tequila down until my babysitters ever so kindly pull over. And I can give you directions better than a TomTom.
9. I will never understand sleeping with someone and not kissing them. That just might be the strangest-coldest-feel-like-a-two-dollar-trick set up that I am not OK with. If Captain Winkie wants to ride my waves, he better know how to navigate more than just the oars. Oh and yeah, not eating the cookie jar is so '97.
10. I can successfully find anyone who has ever been incarcerated, and have been known to be the one to run to whenever you need help cracking exes passwords, finding your exes latest, figuring out numbers, and even am familiar with a tax program that can tell you who bought what house, the address, sq footage, in the state of GA. Maybe I should have gone with the Criminal Justice program, because I am pre-wired for investigation.

And I don't know if I am allowed to give out the same award to people who have already received them, but if Britney Spears can take three awards from the VMAs out of no where, I can give out this shit to whoever I want.

1. Jarrod Halsey- The man who introduced me to the blog world, and someone I will never understand how brutally intelligent and humorous he could be. And yes JH I see your head getting bigger from here.
2. Sasha- second blog I became addicted to. I swear if lighting striked the same place twice, this chic would be it's target. Different day, different story...and my days wouldn't be the same without tryin to keep up with her ass. She is proof that a chic I might give the ice grill to at the west indian club, is just like me
3. Lena-This butt-er-pee-kin rican (yeah I know its spelled pecan, but for some folks who never heard it before I had to pull a wikipedia enunciation on the ass) Girl has been through it and back- and still not bitter. Gotta give love on that one
4. Verysmartbrothas- oh god the hilarity of that shit.
5. Q- thank god Sasha had a link for you because I don't know how you come up with some of the shit you come up with. And I am so jealous when you and Sasha get together because I know it is riiiiii-muh fuckin-diculous.
6. The Saga- okay so he doesn't blog...but he sure is honestly good to look at.
7. Kieya- Began to read her blog recently, and I give props to anyone who can be blunt with their shit and still find ways to creatively use someecards in over half their blogs.
8. GOODENess- again someone I got into more recently, and thank god for that...more humorous blows for my day.

Alright-y'all done worn me out. And oh would you look at that, I have to go BACK to class. Fan fuckin tabulous.

Missed you all, thanks for those who checked up on me. I'm still alive, my chocha and my sanity are still in tact, and still single and ready to...get a toy...

the book of questions...

so I'm sitting with my girls, and one of my girls homeboys...and we start reading this book. You know one of those book that asks you these off the wall questions like would you rather be blind or def, if you could replace your appendage with a household utensil what would it be. Stupid questions. And some of them were waaaaaaaay to deep for me. Like if you could have two and a half seconds with your God, what facial expression would you flash him as you confess your inner most thoughts. Seriously? Ok, now I am never one to be serious. Whether it's my own self defense mechanism to avoid all my denials, male failures, and repetitive attempts at being an adult....I think someone should make up a REAL question book, something that a few drunk friends can hang out with, and answer, without stumbling on their words, well without me stumbling on my words, and still remain friends at the end of the day. For example

1. You live with your significant other, there is a department of health letter that comes in the mail, you see it...what do you do? what if he/she mentions nothing of it?
2. Your sleeping with a man, they are clearly only built for a 1" by 1" piece of saran wrap and they pull out a Trojan Magnum...for safety reasons, you....?
3. Your ex's best friend is seriously hot, and insisting on making you their smashpiece, knowing it's wrong, but knowing it would be all worth it...what would you do?
4. If given the chance would you really beat that bad ass kid in front of you in the check out at Wal Mart? And their parent for not checking them?
5. Your at your significant other's house, they leave you alone for hours on end, all their passwords are stored in their computer, do your crack into their networking sites? You do and find potentially incriminating information, what do you do?( P.S- Bella highly suggests leaving this one ALONE y'all)


Potentially more to come...for now...back to work....

Equal Oppurtunity Employer

So in the event that all my friends have slowly but surely confirmed that I don't have any standards- let me just say in my defense- OK well I don't have an excuse other than I attempted to have certain standards that I insisted in a partner...

Many women at one point or another have made....the list. The list of things we want in a man, attributes that are worth listing, characteristics and habits that we would rather poke our eye's out with a paperclip than deal with.... It's kind of like our own recipe for success. But with any other attempt at a new dish, you miss a few ingredients....you rather go hungry....

I think I fucked up my own list. First problem? I had one when I was like 7. Considering my age, the only thing on that list should of been a boy who didn't tell me I had cooties, or smacked me around the monkey bars to show that he liked me. Over time, my list got ridiculously, obnoxiously long. And even though I was creating the ultimate man ( keeping in mind that I wasn't being too outlandish) , over time, I crossed out a majority of my list. Here in chronological order, are a sample of my lists.

Age 7:
1. Loves New Kids on the Block
2. Wants 4 kids when we get married, and will let me name them
3. Says please and thank you

Age 13
1. Doesn't even know what NKOTB stands for
2. Wants 4 kids when we get married, and will let me name them
3. Has his own bike
4. Says please and thank you

Age 18: (this one was cut dramatically for reader saving purposes)
1. Wants 4 kids when we get married, and will let me name them
2. Knows not to wear brown shoes with a black belt
3. Has his own mode of transportation, and knows how to drive
4. Has nice, clean shoes
5. Gorgeous
6. Nice smile
7. On the road to college, or somehow furthering his education
8. Loyal
9. Honest
10. Incredible sense of humor that appreciates my sense of humor.
11. Respectful
12. No probation officer to report to
13. Has a job
14. Says please and thank you

Age 21:
1. Wants 4 kids when we get married, at least two of them being from me.....
2. Understands why I wont let him walk out of the house with brown shoes and a black belt
3. Has access to some type of mode of transportation, and has a permit
4. Will keep the shoes I buy him clean
5. Attractive
6. On the road that potentially, not guaranteed, will lead him to furthering his education
7. You could say he's somewhat loyal and honest
8. Somewhat of a sense of humor, and can laugh at half my jokes.
9. No probation or parole officer to report to
10. Has a job and or in the stages of a final interview, and doesn't make beats.
11. Says please and thank you

Age 24:
1. Doesn't have four kids by the time we get married
2. Just knows how to drive
3. Mildly attractive
4. Has at least his GED
5. Sense of humor that will laugh at one fifth of my jokes
6. Is willing to work, and doesn't make beats.
7. Says please and thank you

Currently
1. Says please and thank you



Let's just hope I currently am not asking for too much.

Gravity is a bitch.

Apparently "The Holiday" is by far, this year, the movie I can relate to the most. And even though it's about three years old, if I had watched it, maybe my slow ass would have understood the past three years of my life wayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy better. Every woman should see this movie. Not because it has some insanely moving story line, but because at one point or another, you are going to relate to one of the female characters in the movie. And seeing that I have had my moments mirror that of "the loner, loser, and complicated wreck..." I've inevitably watched this movie more than neccessary the past few weeks. But more often I could relate to the emotional disaster....Kate Winslet. In two scenes, her words pretty much summed up my relationship status ( and obviously, lack there of....)

"I've found almost everything ever written about love to be true. Shakespeare said "Journeys end in lovers meeting." What an extraordinary thought. Personally, I have not experienced anything remotely close to that, but I am more than willing to believe Shakespeare had. I suppose I think about love more than anyone really should. I am constantly amazed by its sheer power to alter and define our lives. It was Shakespeare who also said "love is blind". Now that is something I know to be true. For some quite inexplicably, love fades; for others love is simply lost. But then of course love can also be found, even if just for the night. And then, there's another kind of love: the cruelest kind. The one that almost kills its victims. Its called unrequited love. Of that I am an expert. Most love stories are about people who fall in love with each other. But what about the rest of us? What about our stories, those of us who fall in love alone? We are the victims of the one sided affair. We are the cursed of the loved ones. We are the unloved ones, the walking wounded. The handicapped without the advantage of a great parking space! Yes, you are looking at one such individual. And I have willingly loved that man for over three miserable years! The absolute worst years of my life! The worst Christmas', the worst Birthday's, New Years Eve's brought in by tears and valium. These years that I have been in love have been the darkest days of my life. All because I've been cursed by being in love with a man who does not and will not love me back. Oh god, just the sight of him! Heart pounding! Throat thickening! Absolutely can't swallow! All the usual symptoms........"

"I understand feeling as small and as insignificant as humanly possible. And how it can actually ache in places you didn't know you had inside you. And it doesn't matter how many new haircuts you get, or gyms you join, or how many glasses of chardonnay you drink with your girlfriends... you still go to bed every night going over every detail and wonder what you did wrong or how you could have misunderstood. And how in the hell for that brief moment you could think that you were that happy. And sometimes you can even convince yourself that he'll see the light and show up at your door. And after all that, however long all that may be, you'll go somewhere new. And you'll meet people who make you feel worthwhile again. And little pieces of your soul will finally come back. And all that fuzzy stuff, those years of your life that you wasted, that will eventually begin to fade. "

Onto gravity...And I'm not talking about the fact that as the years pass, everything isn't quite the same as 17...But it's the only force that I can blame these days due to a.) denial, b.) utter stupidity, and c)my extreme overly bearing laziness which could quite possibly be misdiagnosed as sheer depression, all in which are an excuse to not get on here and vent more often. And that Sara Bareilles, boy she can send a bitch straight to her prozac bottle. Apparently, there's this song, Gravity....If you could copyright my emotions, here's what it would look like on paper, and sound like just to cut that obnoxious wound deeper....

Something always brings me back to you.
It never takes too long.
No matter what I say or do I'll still feel you here 'til the moment I'm gone.

You hold me without touch.
You keep me without chains.
I never wanted anything so much than to drown in your love and not feel your rain.

CHORUS
Set me free, leave me be. I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity.
Here I am and I stand so tall, just the way I'm supposed to be.
But you're on to me and all over me.

You loved me 'cause I'm fragile.
When I thought that I was strong.
But you touch me for a little while and all my fragile strength is gone.

Set me free, leave me be. I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity.
Here I am and I stand so tall, just the way I'm supposed to be.
But you're on to me and all over me.

I live here on my knees as I try to make you see that you're everything I think I need here on the ground.
But you're neither friend nor foe though I can't seem to let you go.
The one thing that I still know is that you're keeping me down

I really need to start listening to something heavier.....

uninspired babbling...

so it shocks me it's taking me this long to come around. It feels that so much has been happening but nothing has inspired me to write.

I currently have three other people living with me, soon to be four, in my one bedroom apartment. Yes we are living like a bunch of _____ (insert your favorite group of immigrants/least offensive remark here.) My brother who is working for the movie that the company that I work for is working on, my friend who just moved down here and is getting set up, my cousin who moved back here and is getting on her feet, and soon to be my mom who is coming to visit for the summer. And don't forget to throw in my 6 lb obnoxious chihuahua. Maybe the reason why I haven't found the energy to write, is my house is keeping me pretty busy....and I'm still recovery from Italy's loss in the Euro cup....

In other news...I am going back to school. Yay. Going to Georgia State for Graphic Design. Let's see how long this lasts. Transferred my Associates in General Studies, which as we know- is generally worth nothing, they accepted all but one semester sooooo....I'm pretty excited. Let's see how long this excitement lasts. No more being a loser for me.

In oh that kinda news...Jay still sucks. What else is new. We've been seeing alot more of each other which as you know in the long run makes me as happy as a collection notice. His two friends told me he was proposing to me. In my drunken stupor, and yes, I mean STUPOR, I asked him about it....totally denied it. And then like J always does says that if he did say it....would it really matter, blah blah fuckery. He then proceeded to re-request me on facebook. He sucks.

Unfortunately the only way to get over one piece of nasty penis is to go out and find another rotten one. So I have a this only happens to me story. I meet this really cute guy at this place I go to every Friday. He gives me the same ol same ol. How gorgeous I am. And he's in graduate school, and he's got his own place, and a job. I nearly shit a brick when he said he didn't have any kids. So I'm excited....and later that week I'm telling my girl about him. Then her face starts to change. She says hmmm....that sounds familiar... he's from Brooklyn...he wears a Yankees fitted? His name is? We both pull out our cell phones.... Needless to say... the numbers were the same. I know you aren't supposed to meet men in the club but really...where can you meet somebody? The grocery store? I mean my gynecologist is kinda hot but who can take anybody seriously who's named Dr. Handy...seriously.

Pray for me y'all.

I make beats yo.

yeah and let me just say I could give a fuck less. It seems as soon as I drove south of the Georgia border everyone and they momma became a music producer. The following scenario probably happens weekly, and not only in the club, but also at the gas station, waffle house, Gladys Knight's Chicken and Waffles, The Cheesecake Factory, ETC.

I walk into a club, and every man deems it necessary to make it a part of their game.

Bootleg Dude at club, with sunglasses on, rocking a blue tooth on...which by the way I never quite fully understood anyway...who the fuck are you talking to? I can't hear my damn girl who is right the hell next to me so I know you aren't accepting no damn incoming calls...approaches me with the following conversation:

"Ay,Ay Shawty"
ME: "Hi"
Bootleg Dude: "How you doin Miss lady"
ME: "Fine how are you"
BD : "I'm good you enjoyin yourself"
Me: "Im good enjoying the music"
BD" yeah you like the music? I make beats too you know" (hands me some triflin version of a demo with a picture of him, twelve pit bulls, and about 8 AK's on it, 4 pieces of random bling, and the words GUNTOTINCHEESESTACKERS)

BD then pulls a crinkled up card from his wallet that apparently he had his alleged secretary made for him, proceeds to tell me that his cousin also has a studio. His cousin's baby's ma's brother's uncle has an up an coming label . His brother is also a producer/rapper but is going through some hard times right now,but he be on that bull shit sometimes so he don't really be fucking with him like that.

Now those of you who may have read my Judgemental Angel Post, may see this response coming:
Me: "So you don't have a job?"

I dont trust you bitch....

Let me just start out by saying that both my liver and I survived another Atlanta Carnival Weekend. Not the flyest I have attended, in fact whack in comparison...but with good friends- exciting nonetheless.

Anywhoo. I fully blame the republican party for the small attendance of any West Indian parties this weekend. After all who in the hell can afford to fill up the "muddacunt" gas tank at $4.53 a gallon, drive 35 miles one way, pay $20 cover-jus to bus a whine. Thank you George Bush.

In other pathetic news. Apparently my teenage love affair has been cut short. J said he is buying the tickets for me and a friend of mine for the Alicia Keys concert. While I pride myself In being multi-cultural. I can make my way around a Trini conversation, and attempt to whine with d best of dem. My spanish would survive in the bars of Tijuana. And I can tell you any shape of any pasta at any Trattoria (now that could be because I'm Italian or because I'm a heifer who likes to eat-you decide.) What I truly would like to believe is that I didn't make up yet another random conversation and pull it out of my guinea ass.

In other digressional news. How come every time I go to get my nails and toes done, these lovely Asian women ask if I want my eye brows done. Listen chic, do I really want my eye brows done by some heffa who shaves hers off and draws hers in...I don't trust you bitch.....

thank you and good day.

I'm a soca warrior.

Oh thank god. It's official.It is Atlanta's Carnival Weekend. The weekend I look forward to EEEEEEEEEEEEvery year. Tonight is the flag party. And I am officially Atlanta's Italian Soca warrior. Here is to a weekend of true whining and rolling. I will be kickin it of tonight with my girls. I leave you all with a playlist of my favorites. So do me a favor, get a flag, get a rag, shit I don't care if you get a sock. Wave it. Jump. Whine. Rooooooooooooooooooll. Me and my liver will hopefully return on Monday. Hope y'all have a faaaaaaaaaaabulous weekend. <3

that's a low blow even for an ass munch

oooooooooooooooooooooooooh you GOT to be kidding me. Just when the tests can't get any more serious. Just when they can't get any more sporadic. This dude comes into work, walks in my office. Conversation as follows. Please keep in mind, I shit you not my friends.

J: "Can I just hold you"
Me: "illllll....why?"
J:"I just wanna hug you right now"
Me: **a look on my face as if I was watching 2 girls 1 cup for the first time***
J: "What's wrong I can't hold you"
Me: "No...what's wrong is you musta fallen and bumped your head on a steel drum somewhere along the way in here."
J: "No I just had been thinking alot the past few days. I've realized some things. I've had some clarity in my life. You always told me that you would do more for me that any other woman in my life. You've taught me more. You've made more possible. I wouldn't have this job if it wasn't for you. You really are an angel."

(J just landed a job painting a movie producer/director entire studio=big time project=mucho credit due to moi)

I then choose not to respond to that partly because I am irritated that it took a sum of money for him to realize my angelic ways but nonetheless....
J:"Did you whiten your teeth?"
Me:"No...."
J:"How much would your uncle charge to whiten mine"
Me: "Just go get a kit J, did you need something??"
J:"I was just bored.... What are you doing on the 28th, I want to take you somewhere so make sure you free up your night."
Me: "What are you talking about? What you got up your sleeve?"
J:"Can you just free up your night please, don't ask any questions...I don't ask you any questions. I just really really wanna take you somewhere. You always handle me. I wanna handle you. I really wanna spend that night with you. Do something really special. Do something that will mean alot to you. A night of two people that remind you of the good times."

And do you know what this MOTHER OF A FUCKER THEN SAYS?!?!?!?!?!??!?!!?!?!?

"I want to take you to the Alicia Keys and NeYo concert."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH low blow you assmunch! After all the Alicia Keys songs I've lip sang to him, Alllllllllll the times I have turned up NeYo in the car and turned to him with him smiling at me knowing it was because, yup, that was our song because at one point he called me and played it over the phone to me. I really had have no other choice but to hate him. But I really had no other choice but to politely decline the invite. Mother fucker.

unleashing of the vajayjay and whack self defense mechanisms

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls
Good afternoon
And we are gathered here for the game of your life (lovely! lovely!)
I want to see yuh put yuh flags up in de air right now
Sing!

Ahhh It is that time of year again. The soca songs are banging out of the five speeds. The west indians flags are blowing in the wind in every direction it is Atlanta Carnival. And I am the Italian Soca Warrior. It is the one weekend a year where I can cut loose. I can party from 10 pm to 8 am. I can wear sneakers to every party. Where breakfast is served outside of every club. Where everyone is just there to have a good time. Hopefully this year I won't be that drunk white girl getting escorted out of the club but that's a different story for another day.

Getting my rags and flags together...It will be a different kind of weekend. The usual Trini crew won't be there. Well technically they will be there, I will just not be rolling with them. I, like any good ex girl friend will be using my resources and hit the crew up for all good purposes to get in to every party possible, so me and my friends don't have to pay any covers or wait in any lines :)

Speaking of piece of shit Trinis, well okay, NOW that we are on the subject, J texts me again yesterday "Hello Angel!! I hope you are having a good day...."
A few minutes later, after no response, being that my head was still so crooked and my eyes still cross-eyed at the screen, he sends me : " If you are not having a good day I hope this helps: May Jah's blessings of joy and love always speak through our hearts and keep us on a path that is sure!"

can I just say...what the fuck? OK. Now let me just stop and say that I already double checked, and the the message a few days ago was apparently no accident. But these two? I am beginning to think that there are two Bellas in his phonebook and he is accidentally texting me instead. While outlandish, it is something that I have to tell myself. It is a complete and utter whack self defense mechanism but it's all I gots right now. Why else would this man pull this shit out of his ass two months later. Now granted we are going to probably be running into each other socially this weekend alot more in comparison to what we have been the past two months, but really dude. I'm about as confused as Jenna Jameson in a convent. Let's just say that I really am starting to feel like I have a few characters turning my life into a LIFETIME MOVIE NETWORK SAGA.

And since we are talking about confusing men and all. Lets talk about BS. And those were really his initials. Shoulda been sign number one huh? But nooo...Bella wants to be hard headed. I meet this guy at the soca club. Shoulda been sign number two huh? But nooo...Bella wants to have a soft ass too. So he's cool. We do like this double date thing-a-muh-jig. Our friends don't click. But we all click as a group. Like we really all got along reaaaaaaaaaaaaaaally well. Like too well. Like freakishly well. Anyway BS totally boo-ed me up. No, really. Boo-ed me up. I mean callin me, textin me, tellin me he was missin me. Yeah, I fell for it. Granted I am a sucker for a man who will say and do all the right things, especially around the completely over-rated consumer fed Valentines Day. Which was right around the time we....I....He....it....the vajayjay was unleashed. It was good. We vibed. The sex talk was ridiculous. He said god awful things. Things a girl would never want to hear. I mean. ***Whispering***(so happy this page is for authorized audiences only) He actually told me he wanted to be the last piece of well, you know, in me. You know my legs froze on that one. Kegals stood at attention. What the bloooooooooooooooodclot was that dread? So I tried so badly to let that slide. But he said it the next time we, you know.

Oh. Wait. I left out a very important part about our relationship. Its span was about......9 days. And then he fell off the face of the earth. Hmmmm. Wonder why that was. Good thing he wasn't the last Captain Snickerdoodle to rock my docks. I would have been assed out. He then suddenly resurfaced months later with some fuckery about how he lost his phone, rah rah rah, had to go through his phone bills to find my number. BOOOOOOOOOOO. Well too bad for BS. Did I mention that I am fully aware that I unleashed the chocha way too soon. I understand that I brought his disappearance on myself, and I am completely okay with that. I even remain cool with his homeboy, Q. Q and I kept it cool on myspace. And q, my girl and I even clubbed it one weekend. Unfortunately my coolness with Q has led him to think that it's appropriate to invite BS out on my weekend of carefreeness (which isn't really that carefree since I need to worry about staying between that perfect level of drunk but not ignorantly drunk, while having a ridiculous amount of fun and trying to maintain my beautiful composure at the risk of running into J at any given moment at any given party).

Ooooooooooooh THIS is gonna be fun.

Judgemental Angels

Well It's been one heeeeeeeeeeell ova week. I went home to celebrate my girl Shan's graduation, Mother's day, and well, hell just a break. I quite possibly experienced the best house party ever to grace my small home town. Population 35,000, yes that's including livestock. Anyhoo. I had a walk down memory lane with an ex of mine, both verbally and physically. I can't say I regret it. I can't say I really even needed it. But it definitely helped get my mind off of things if not for the weekend. Having my night fling made me realize even more that I really need to take the time off of finding a new smash-piece any time soon. I am about as ready for that as Ray J is for Whitney Houston. I recognize that whore-bag crotch rot J isn't thinking about me as he lays it down with every chic south of the Mason Dixie line but that's what makes me better than him. Speaking of me being better than him....

I have been recently informed by my friends that I am judgemental. Although the previous lines (and posts) aren't really helping my case right now, this is news to me. I can admit though, that sometimes my conversation, better yet, my responses in conversation may make me seem judgemental. My friend Jamaica clarified yesterday that I am just more comfortable with my truths, and more open with my business, and some people can't handle that. Here is how I can translate for you my judgemental conversations:

Him: "I'm in between jobs right now."
Me: "So you are unemployed."

Him: "I'm a natural born hustler"
Me: "So you can't legally file taxes"

Him: "Our relationship is complicated"
Me: "Your still fuckin her and haven't told her you are out here tryin to bone other bitches"

Him: "I stay with my boy"
Me: "So you sleep on somebody's couch....."

Okay so maybe I am a little bit judgemental but I really am a sweet girl. I promise. And if anyone knew me they would know by my dating cycle that I give everyone a chance, and my judgements are all in good humor. Because hey, I've been there, and if I can't laugh at myself, I would have slit my wrists years ago.....

In other digressional news...I firmly believe that J hasn't even told his mom that we aren't talking. He definitely brought her into my job and acted as if nothing happened. Calling me babes. Rubbing all over my arms, hugging on me, yes, the whole 9 yards. Now that my friend Shan lives here I thought he might have brought himself around more, but he hasn't. Which we all know, in the long run, is a good thing. He however, randomnly, called me yesterday invited me to some party and I did what any girl with a broken heart who missed her ex terribly would. Acted like I had bad reception and hung up. 8 hours later he sent me a text message saying the following " Just wanted to tell you that u are an angel..."

Only the devil can truly acknowledge an angel when he sees one. Even if she is judgemental.

broken record.

me: "Life happens when you are busy planning it. Life is too short and I would love to spend my life with someone and share all the moments of it's chaotic see of emotions and virtues."

general male population: "damn ma, I'm not trying to settle down. I got my whole life ahead of me"

I am a firm believer that women when it comes to relationships and settling down use the theory that life is short. Men always have their whole life to settle down. The pickins are short for women so the numbers favor men. It's only because we outnumber them......

Waterproof mascara need not apply.

Ahhhhh, milestones. The small, the large, the grateful moments in our lives that we can only appreciate once we've actually jumped over those once seemingly difficult hurdles. Now while at every point in a breakup I wonder if I will ever get over the pain, hurt, frustration, or the general thought of right hooking an ex. Not answering the phone calls has become easier. Not letting his presence affect me at work- let's just say that's on my to do list (along with yoga, reading Madam Curie, and saying no to bread....) Okay so some things are easier than others. However I have broken another barrier in this seven week downward spiral of emotions, obsessively cleaning my house, pathetic R&B play lists on my iPod, and red wine. It is so hard to work with someone you truly want in your life. It's even harder when you are going through the first stages of "not speaking." When approached by him at work, a torpedo of emotions hit me. Why not me? How can he look at me (and trust and believe I pride myself in looking fly at work)? How can he so easily throw me under the bus, into the game, while becoming prime meat for the lions of the single life and the viscous dating cycle?

These are questions I so badly want answered. In previous discussions of our relationship, I got the answers I wanted to hear. The I love yous, the it's not you it's mes, the "if I wanted a relationship tomorrow it would be with yous." Now all I want is the answers I deserve. The "you aren't what I want, you aren't what I need, you aren't even what I think could make me happy. I am not willing to sacrifice the wonderful state of bachelorhood for you because you aren't worth it." But do I get that? No. Approached by him yesterday at work, I get the I love you, the it's not you it's me....I get everything that I want to hear, not anything that I need to hear. Not anything I deserve to hear. Do I feel like he deserves me? Of course. I've been there. I've been there through the dropping out of classes, no money, no car, no phone. I've been there when he first bought his house, in the hood, with no heat, no furniture-and I slept on the floor with him to keep him company. Now that you have your house, your cars, your bike, your phones, and almost your degree, why wouldn't I deserve that? Why wouldn't he deserve someone that was there from the get-go. Someone who was there when you didn't have shit. He confronted me with an hour long confrontation how he doesn't want to fight, he doesn't want this gap between us. But how can I not be bitter? How can I not wonder why this supposedly perfect girl that you claim to have in front of you, doesn't inspire you to want to settle down? If you meet the right person, and it's too soon into the singledom that you had been looking forward to, do you settle down with them? You feel they are so wonderful, and perfect, do you sacrifice the single life's freedoms? Or do you take a chance and let them go. I say you hold on, white-knuckled, for dear life.

If there is one thing that so boldly stood out to me yesterday- my emotions. In any discussion pertaining to our relationship, a monsoon of emotions pour from my eyes. Tears long enough to assist in the Georgia drought. Perfectly, stunningly blue smashbox liner outlined eyes now strewn across my face, water-proof mascara losing it's battle against excessive liquid out pours. I have had my moments in our conversations where I could be mistaken as an understudy for WHATEVER HAPPENED TO BABY JANE. Oddly enough, I had crossed that new milestone in this break-up, and wasn't even trying. I wasn't holding the tears in. I heard all the excuses, and his reasons, and with a straight face I could say "I'm not willing to continue this cycle. I'm not willing to give myself to you anymore." I was able to walk away from the discussion without showing my emotions, questioning his motives, without accepting his excuses as a reason for staying a little bit longer, and without even an ounce of make-up out of place.

white folk smell like fried bologna.

While I admit that I may fall victim to certain stereotypes (I have dated black men, rock Timbs, and have gold bamboo earrings that are larger than life....) I also find myself buying into other stereotypes (all West Indian men can fix my car....) But today, I find myself at a crossroads. Today I find myself confused about some truths, facts, demographic statistics. Today I wonder- will the question boggling my brain this afternoon ever truthfully be answered. Will some major research group full of overworked college grads ever reveal the truth....

Do white people or black people eat more chicken?*

*this is in no way to offend anyone. An actual question brought to me in a completely neutral environment while watching Flavor of Love 3.

R&R

So I have returned from my vacation to Florida with a majority of my family. It was fabulous on all kinds of levels. I got away for 9 days, I got to see the fam, and most importantly...I got my brown on :) Yes the skin tone level is officially on point. It had record low temperatures in Orlando, so while our pool time was slimmer than other vacations, my cousin and I definitely kept our cups full-all week. At times I honestly questioned getting sloshed in front of my whole family- but as long as I stayed a little bit under my Aunt Car...hey, at least I wasn't alone. My cousin was there too, which was awesome since we usually only see each other once a year. She has her own male drama. So we made a pact- You don't call/text your guy...I won't call or text J. She failed. But, I still didn't call J.

He texted me Monday morning telling me to have a safe trip. Of course if he wasn't being a dickwad he would have known by then I had been in Florida two days....He then called me, and texted me on Friday letting me know that he had given Jennifer my number. He then told me that Jennifer was the girl who was with us on our double date the night before our fiasco occurred. Now mind you, Jennifer was cool...hung out with me for all of 2 hours and lives in California. I can't imagine what she would need to call me for (and she still hasn't called.) I can't keep up with him, I don't know if that was an excuse to call, text....whatever. I did give J's friend Pookie ( no, that isn't his real name, it's my name for him that actually pisses him off...) my car for the week. He was going to detail it, change the oil. Gotta love those west indian personal drive-way car shops...Pookie calls me and lets me know that J had actually taken my car, got it detailed, and took it to get the tint back on the replaced window from my car break in last month. Hmmm....that was nice. So I admit I did text him to say thank you, but that was it, just thank you. And I will also admit that I am the #1 hypocrite for not answering any of his calls or texts, but then I question why doesn't he respond to my thank you text.

So much for being away and getting my mind off of the situation. I think I thought about him more. Of course the wine, Bacardi, cartons of cigarettes, and ignorant amount of food (which all accounts to the 8 pounds I gained last week) were sure a big enough band-aid! On another note, how come some women (me being the number one culprit) feel that they have to look absolutely fly when they run into their ex? Yeah, I pondered that when I got up an hour early, did my hair like I was going to try out for a Pantene commercial, and put about $15 worth of smashbox and bare minerals on my face...And I definitely can't afford to lose my beauty sleep, my hair can't take the heat damage, and I just spent $120 at ULTA as it is....the potential for running into him is getting a little expensive...I guess I'll just have to look a hot ass mess.

He don't got game

soo my blogger bff...wow that's super corny-sorry Bellevue-Had a great idea...come together and check fellas on their game.... There are a few signs that woman recognize as "game." And as woman, we can come together and probably single handedly find each whack line, gimmick, or bootleg individual. Here are her personal tricks to the trade:

1. Your style of dress. If you're dressed like an extra in a 50cent video, dont walk up to a woman in a pants suit and expect her to even give you eye contact. Even a man with a low budget can dress himself to apeal to most women. Its not about how much the shirt cost, its whether or not your pants are hanging off your ass and you have fake jewelry on every extention of your body. If you even LOOK like a stereotypical D boy, you wont get ANY attention from me, or most women who have respect for themselves and want to keep their criminal reccord clean.

2. Your aproach. Fellas fellas fellas. Stop walking up to women who are ignoring you intentionally. We arent playing hard to get. If we want you to talk to us, we will at one point, be caught looking at you. Pay attention to our body language. Do not come on to us like a dog in heat. If you see a woman checking you out, aproach her gently and try using humor. "I saw you staring at me" will make her uncomfortable and not know what to say to you. For example if you're in a grocery store, pay attention to what she's buying, make a cute joke, or compliment something. Reach for cosmopolitan and giggle saying you read the articles so you know what bra's to buy. The way to any real woman's heart is humor, and intelligence. I have had men who make me laugh until I'm red in the face upon meeting them, and it gets them major points. Just make sure your ass is actually funny.

3. ASK HER FOR HER NUMBER. Do not leave it up to a woman to call you. You are a man. You must make the first move. If I am given a phone number, you just put the ball in my court. 9 times out of 10 (and I have done this). I will find a way to use you to my advantage and not take you seriously. I assume that if you dont ask for my number, you wont be able to call me to ask to take me out, and if you're not calling to ask to take me out, I'm not ready to take you seriously. It seems like something so small, but it is very important.

4. Do not call late. If you start calling late as hell, and god forbid you call me after 12am!! You've just been set to the side as possible booty call, but considering it would take me a very very long time to call you for that, you'll be cut off completely. I put your number next to the "secret box" in my closet for emergencies ONLY. Any female who hasnt used a man for that purpose is full of shit. When you call a woman, keep in mind that most of us are expecting you to be a gentleman. If you call after 10 on a monday, I wont pick up. If you want to go out on a tuesday night, I'll assume you have no job, or dont take your job seriously.

5. Listen and get to know her. Educate yourself and have something to talk about. Dont call just to hear me breathe on the phone. Excessive compliments will freak most women out. We like compliments, but if all you have to say to me is how pretty I am, it will deem you as creepy or just down right BORING. Dont be boring. The men in my life who do well with women, love to talk. They will talk talk talk with me until all hours of the night. If you can carry a conversation, you will keep a woman's interest. Women are mental creatures.

6. Dont talk future too fast. We can SMELL weak game a mile away. Too many compliments, too many baby's (too soon), talks of the future too soon, and we will peep that shit. It works on teenage girls, not on us grown folk. You need to upgrade your tactics. It actually SCARES US AWAY NOW.

7. When you're aproaching a woman with kids, Be very cautious. Do NOT show hyper interest in the kid. That sends the spidey senses crazy. We KNOW that game too. Act like you like the kids and think its going to get you somewhere. SMH.

Does all this shit sound really simple? It is. Its shit we EXPECT from you. Some wont consider this GAME because its pretty easy stuff. But you wont believe how many men cant seem to conquer the basics. This seems like dating right? But even if all you want is a friendship with a woman, these things work just as well. Women respond so well to respect & chivallry.

If all you want is ASS, by all MEANS SKIP ALL THIS SHIT!! For respect reasons, dont game women into having sex. I was talking to a guy earlier today who came at me over a year ago trying to get the pooms. He SUCKED at it.

He kept calling me late as hell. Everytime he did, I wouldnt answer the phone, and I wouldnt call him. Finally I told him he's already got his point accross and I'm not interested in his brand of bullshit, but he kept up with the "baby" I just want to get to know you, I call late because I work late, blah blah bullshit. His number went in the emergency booty call box, and he never got a phone call.

If you're going to game me, do it well. Dont half ass it. If I catch "booty call option" on my radar, you'll get canned. There are women out here, whome you can skip all this stuff, and tell her strait up, that you just want sex, and she'll give it to you. If you can help yourself, dont lie to women to get them into bed. BUT if you are goign to game a woman into bed, be smart. We can sense your intentions easier the older we get.

Did I miss anything?

And although Ms. Bellevue got it pretty much dead on- I had some of my own:

There is also a time and a place to approach a woman. I don't care if I looked like I just stepped out of Kim Kardashian camp....I'm at the gas station. If I wanted to hang out and get picked up, I would be standing right where you have been (probably for the last hour)....If you are in the store, paying attention to a woman's shopping, please refrain from hollerin if you see an EPT. I obviously got more shit on plate that worrying about how much you wanna get to know me. Obviously I have already fallen for that shit otherwise I wouldnt be flagging down a cashier for the key to the kiosk in aisle 11. Move on. (and yes that is a true story....)

If we make it to a level where we are kickin it. Check the sex talk. I do not want to hear after the first time doin the do, that you want your trincket to be the last one up in me.

Don't call me from restricted. I don't answer the creditors calls so I won't answer yours. It's obvious you are trying to hide your number, or surprise me. Either way-kick rocks.

The late phone calls....ahhh yes. You have instantly been filed into "we obviously know where this is going" category. I do have a life, and a job, and I need my beauty sleep so I can hopefully pull someone a step up from the bullshit that is callin me at 3:36.

If you are seriously interested in talking to me, don't make some weak excuses as to where you been for the past three days. If you are really diggin me, you would want to talk to me. I know your ass didn't lose any major appendage, my number, or your sense for the past 72 hours...

Don't try and chill with me one on one. We are not a confidential sporting event. Eventually I need to meet your people, be taken in public, or I know that I am your little "Secret." My name is not Latocha Scott.

I have been slick before and ask a dude to call my phone. "I can't find it can you call my phone." And casually grace over onto his screen...if my number is not programmed....you suck. And it is not programmed for a reason. If you can program in your voicemail number jackass, you surely can find a place for me amongst your 200+ contacts.

Don't tell me you are gonna take me out to some nice restaurant, do all these great things....then take me to Olive Garden. Yes I'm Italian, yes I love me some pasta....but can you take me to a restaurant that doesn't include anything all you can eat? I am not one to have to have someone drop paper on me...but if you are gonna talk about it be about it.

23 hours and counting

so I can't wait until vacation tomorrow. Ahhh yes, a week in Florida with all 326 of my family members. I won't have a moment of clear thought, let alone quiet moments, to even think about the past two weeks....

I can honestly say that I miss that man. I know, I know. I'm sure my friends think I should miss him as much as a woman misses a yeast infection. But I do. I can't deny that I wouldn't trade in the absence of him in my life for a relationship. Unfortunately I also feel that you can put what you want in one hand and shit in the other and see what you get more of. And I get POOOOO. He came into my job two days ago. I definitely knew I couldn't show my ass of emotions like an Oprah saves the children episode. He came in and asked me if I would look for another house for him, since I sold him his first one. I explained, ever so non-chalantly, that I didn't think it was a good idea. I had told him that for over a year now....so why ask my advice when you know the answer? Why ask my advice over and over and over again, if you aren't going to listen? After the conversation went on about 10 minutes, I finally said I didn't care what he did. J instantly replied with "why does this have to be about us?" Ummmmmm no boo...I told you my opinion for over 365 days, after this much time "I don't care" was all I had left. He then proceeded to ask when I was leaving for vacation...and who was watching my dog. And let me tell you- he was not keen on me not letting him watch her. He kept trying to convince me like I don't know that this is open territory for you to call me while I am away. He just stood there aimlessly. I told him to have a good one, when he told me he only came there to pick up some stuff. Dude, you ride a motorcycle. This is a construction business...so unless you came over to pick up 6 nails and a few screws....save it! And I say I miss him because after all the drama...and him coming in my job looking homeless...I still had butterflies. Booooo to my damn self.

I'm scared.

As I listen to Maury today, and all the infamous baby-mamma-daddy-you aint shit-im taking you to court-drama...I really do feel bad for the chi'rren. They got these crazy, off the wall, trashy people at times more worried about who the parents doing the nasty to, then about the kids. But do you know who I am scared for? Me. Cause these crazy ass people are raising the children that one day are going to be responsible for my meds and wipin my ass in a nursing home.

moment of weakness

so, I am self-loathing....listening to the my favorite latest-i-cant take this anymore-emotional fuckery music. As follows.








As I listen in the my bathroom this morning....I hear Sean Kingston "Take you there" blaring. Normally I wouldn't have this as a ringtone on my phone, but being that J said before our trip to TNT, that it reminded him of us....I notice-Hmmm, that's J's ringtone...It stops. Then it plays again. Wow two phone calls at 7:30 A.M. "Okay Bella. Get it together. You know you want to answer it, but run away like it's Syphilis calling to hang out." So I don't hit ignore, I just don't answer.

My friend calls, damn it's 8 AM. He called her. She didn't answer as she was walking into class. She checks her facebook, he emails her asking for an update about me. 11:30 rolls around and Sean Kingston starts singing again. "Okay Bella. SYPHILIS. Don't pick it up...." And I don't. He speaks with my friend when she got out of class. He tells her he misses me, he asks her how I'm doing. Says he wasn't going to be juvenile and call restricted. He wanted to see if I was financially okay for my vacation next week...but he tells her the call was a moment of weakness. (Rather three separate moments of weakness, two phone calls of weakness to my girl, and a facebook moment of weakness, but who's counting?)

I must admit, the fact J claimed it was just a moment of weakness bothered me. But I realized, he's right. Our whole relationship has been full of moments of weakness. Too weak for him to stay away, stick to his word of not wanting a relationship, stick to his game plan of not treating me like his girlfriend. I just can't react to a situation classified as a moment of weakness. I have had 11+ days of hours of weakness, and after all he is just having a few moments? No thanks. I'll attempt and hopefully continue to stay strong, even if I have to tell myself it's crotch-rot calling.

another random weekend.

So in a complete effort to blow my mind off of this emotional downward cluster fuck of a week...I went out. A few times. Friday was a simple night out to the underground hip hop scene. Tried to keep my mind off of him, but since we would go there together, and it was the first place we met...it wasn't as easy as I thought.

But the next night? ON AND MF POPPIN. It was one of those successful nights at the West Indian club. You know where you leave, get home, 4 AM, peeling of your clothes, feet hurt, legs ache, and you probably won't gain hearing back until at least Monday....yep it was that good. However, whats the deal with some of these guys boo-ing girls up at the damn club? I mean a little action is cool, but I have danced the reggae set, the dancehall set, the NY set, the ATL set, and the soca set with you....And what the hell is damn bumpin and grindin to Jay Z....I'm confused. Can I at least get a two step? SOMETHING!!! OH it was HAWWWWWWIbble. This man would not leave me alone. I tried everything, stepping away, finding other guys, dancing horrifically off beat, and even running away. He was on me like jerk on chicken. I've realized that you can't be nice to some folk. Some folk you gotta be ignorantly abrasive. We took a series of pictures that night....and my bug a boo got some action



on another note...have you ever noticed how someone could ruin a name? Certain people can just RUIN a name. Whether its Omarosa, Paris, Adolph....you get the point. And it's not just celebrities, it could be your high school nemesis...or your mentally unstable cousin. I know there was a few names that I loved, but could never pass on to my children, because some where along the lines I met someone and they made me throw up in my mouth every time I heard the name. I know it's bad. Just thought about it being that I met a really nice guy Saturday. We had a good time. And no it is not the bug-a-boo pictured above. But towards the end I find out his name. Same as my father. For those of you who don't know- that's REALLY not a good thing.

I woke up early yesterday, pissed off because everyone knew not to call because I was going out. As described above, I was looking forward to that GOOD sleep. Can I get 8 hours. NOoooooo. I get 5. Apparently J deemed it necessary to send me two pictures of MYSELF. No contact with him except fighting through friends...and you randomly send me a picture of me on the beach in Trinidad, and a picture of me sleeping (with my mouth open :D ) I mean, not that I don't love pictures...but this is unnecessary. I told myself that he was probably just deleting them out of his phone and figured he would send them to me. Until 8 hours later he sent the picture of me sleeping....again. I don't know if he sent them for me to respond...but I didn't, either time. Bastard.

8th grade

so apparently I am fighting with J through our friends. We aren't speaking to each other, haven't in a week, which is about the longest ever for us. And mind you, at least a half dozen times one of us has been out of the country in the past few. He called my girl to vent, I called his boy to checkmate him because he is sooooooooooooooooo giving the after school special version of our HBO mature audience only situation. Anywhoo, I called and apologized to his friend for going off about the situation, that it wasn't a mature 1.7 minute phone call. He calls me back pleading with me not to end it. J loves me, but he's just going through a patch. Personally, I ain't never heard of no type of 2.5 year patch. And i would HATE to see how long a struggle would take...I instantly told his friend, Sinai, that he couldn't save the situation. Sinai is ALWAYS in my face to telling me to stick it out, running along my side like Diddy's personal trainer did him for the NYC marathon. But y'all I'm so tired. Not even inspiring words from my 2.5 year emotional trainer can help me. I call Sinai "false hope." Because that's what he gives me. He sells me a dream and i get a few moments lapse in judgement. I insisted that I was just tired. I shouldn't have to prove the type of person I am....

After the phone call, I did feel better. It's always a relief to have so many people from J's side support me. Must suck having your own friends think your a douche everyday. But the phone calls from J continue to my girl. Finally I had to tell via text, since he blocked me from facebook to stop. But not after I made one more call to Sinai to vent my hurt and pain from the juvenile actions on a networking service.....Do you know what this dude did? After alllllllll the "fuck that dude, I'm done, i can find someone worth my time more...fuck him fuck him fuck him....
" Just imagine an Italian girl from up top, bitter as hell, on a destruction path of verbal attacks. Do you know what Sinai got from this torpedo of emotions? He tells J that he talked to me, and that I love and miss J. ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS DUDE? You might as well be a TMZcorrespondent cause you twisting up E'RTHING! So now J is at home, probably laughing cause I'm sure he thinks that I'm a joke. After all this drama, pathetic lil 'ol me is at home crying myself to sleep over him....and even if that was remotely true it's none of his Gee-YOD damn business. :""( I love Sinai regardless, deep in his twisted head he thinks he's helping the situation by all of this...but I'm not tryin to sell J more of an ego boost. Leave that to the new chics.

Pertaining to our facebook issues....I found the pic of the two of us that they took at the club the night before all this drama happened. So, I liked the picture, but I didn't find it until Wednesday, post disaster. So why would I put up a picture of the both of us. I cropped his ass the hell out. I left all our other pictures alone because that would be just petty. You cant tell it's him, and on my myspace I kept the picture whole. He doesn't have myspace, and neither do his friends so I can post without worrying that this dude will think I'm pathedically attemtpting to reconcile. In yet ANOTHER phone call to my friend he went on and on about how I deleted him out of the 20 pics of us on facebook, I basically deleted him out of my life. NO BRAINIAC. I cropped you outta one. So apparently he calls my friend to relay that message to me. That he only deleted and blocked me because I started it. He officially is fighting with me via my girl. And apparently having messages relayed to me. I feel like I'm in junior high hell, and the homeroom bell just rang...the day has only begun....

Apparently this is going to be the level of the attempt at reconciliation I have to deal with:

checkmate.

So let me get this straight. You call my friend. You tell her that you don't want me in pain. That you care about me. You keep her ass on the phone for over an hour until she has to tell you that she got another call. Probably because she her brain felt it was exploding out of her head and was sick of hearing you over and over like a bad techno song. You never say anything different. It's always the same "I don't want a relationship, but I love her. I want my freedom, but I want her in my life." Blah blah blah. FUCKERY. That's what that is. You tell her that you can't focus on anything. And that no matter what, nothing and no one is going to change our relationship. But then what do you do? You turn around and not only delete me off facebook, you BLOCK me. Didn't you just tell my friend how much you cared about me? You knew that would hurt me. And I am not going to sit here and lie and say I don't care. I am having the most Lifetime Movie Marathon of emotions sitting here writing this. I have never in my life been "deleted" from any man's life. I was always the girl that was "too good to let go." Shame on me for thinking 2.5 years meant more to you. Shame on you for not acknowledging that it wasn't. I want so badly to call you and rip you a new one. So badly to pummel the lies out of your cold cruel hearted head. But I wont. I said I could go on with out you. I just couldn't fathom it was on your terms. After all you've done me wrong for so long. I guess I'm just bitter that I didn't have the strength to "delete" you first. Either way, thanks for helping me move on to bigger and better things that someone of my level deserves.

the lesser of two evils....and my letter to the devil.

So, I've done it again. I went digging for something I didn't want to find. Sure your emails, phone, text messages, and facebook are NONE of my business. Rummaging frantically, my heart pounding, my pulse making my fingertips lose control, my heart in my throat, my neck so crooked and sideways you would think the damn emails are upside down. Oh, and let's just add sweating profusely to the recipe. But I had to....I just absolutely-one-hundred-percent needed to go through your shit like the discount bins at TJMAXX. After all you are not honest with it. You don't tell me the truth. Maybe if you change your passwords after you give them to me, or don't use my computer and then forget to sign off, I would have never found out after 2.5 years, that not only do you feel you haven't met anyone worthy of a relationship (yep that's what you told some random heifer on your facebook) but that you are now having an "intimate level" with your best friend. Whatever the hell that is supposed to mean. Hmmm, guess that hard-head-soft-ass comments my friends so jokingly refer to me as may be true. But even if I was wrong, for prying into your life like Jenny Jones, does it make your actions any less wrong? Isn't this what folk would call lying by MF omission?

On the other hand, maybe it's your fault. Maybe if you were more slick with your game, I would have never questioned it. Maybe if you were more slick with your phone, you wouldn't lock all the juicy messages and then forget your phone at my house, unchaperoned for 6 hours. Maybe you shouldn't have told me you loved me and that I was this absolutely gorgeous, amazingly entertaining, funny, charming. smart woman. Maybe you shouldn't have said "it's not that I don't want to be with you Bella, I don't want to be with anybody. But if I decided tomorrow to be in a relationship, it would be with you-absolutely." Maybe if you felt that "you hadn't met anyone worth settling down with" (per your email to that random chic) then you should have let me go years ago. You mean to tell me, that we are NOT in this absolutely confusing situation where we both care about each other on an incredibly-not-just-a-smashpiece level? News to MF ME!

But it's cool. Game peeps game. You want your cake and eat it too. You know I'm the best thing for you. I'm the best you can get (and no that's not being cocky, I've seen what you been working with boo.) My wise grandmother once said "you can't get walked all over unless your laying down." Granted, it sound much more eloquent in Italian. No more laying down for me. No more being your rug, doormat, car mat, throw rug....no mas. No more trading in my backbone for a wishbone. I've told you over and over again, there would be one day were the words wouldn't and couldn't save you anymore. Even though you were paying me just enough to come back the next day, one day the funds would be too low for me to return. I know in weeks, months, years from now I won't regret walking away. But you will regret losing me.

And no, calling my friends isn't working for you. The same thing I told YOUR friend, I'll tell you. OUR FRIENDS CAN'T save us. You aren't in any of my bitches top 5 so save yourself the trouble, energy, and my friends' limited remaining minutes for this month. Better luck next time.

OH LAWD get me through the month

So yeah, B, you know the broke ass bitch...he sucks. Went up in the job, made him sign a piece of paper, cause I will Judge Judy dat ass...and you think he's givin me any money? NO. you think a grown man with two jobs could afford less that $100 a week in rent and utilities?NO. I gave him two weeks called him, he didn't answer. Texted him telling him I needed to meet up with him and get some money....do you know that this broke ass dude called me screamin on ME. HA. Telling me he didn't appreciate me coming up to his job, which he forgets, I worked there for 4 years, worked there before this broke ass man even knew where it was. And he most definately didn't appreciate me texting him. What was I supposed to do ask you hows the family, the weather....NO. The only thing I have to say to him is about getting my money. Conveniently he threatened his wife on me-because all of a sudden they care about each other, suprised he didn't threaten me with his two chics on the side as well... Ironic that both my brother's car window and my car window got smashed out the night I made him sign that paperwork...hmmm. So I pulled a Judge Judy, he wants to go Jerry Springer on me. REAL MATURE. But you know, if he couldn't afford less than a $100/wk, I don't know how he is gonna afford $750+ a month. He will crash and burn financially. TRUST AND BELIEVE. And you know what? I'll still be surviving, in my $850+, on my own and still being owed that money that it took to help his broke ass out.
UUGGGH hate men who can't do anything for themselves but wanna claim being grown.

In other news, I moved. Finally. Yeah that story's a bitch. Considering I was moving to my new apartment, left just to go back to my old home for the night. BAM. Freakin Tornado. They since have moved me into the same complex, different building, to a unit that I absolutely can't afford and will have to move again in 4 months as soon as my original unit is labeled "habitable." But I guess I can ride the free upgrade for as long as possible.., :)

This MF....

so what had happened was, my brother moved out of our lease..in the middle of it. Left his $800/wk job to go make $300 week. Left sunny Atlanta, for the dreary armpit of the nation...Upstate NY. All for some pussy, i.e. his girlfriend. (Mild haterade tone due to the fact that apparently the only man I have met thus far to make these types of sacrifices...is related to me...)

Anywhoo... In comes scumbag #9,324 of my life. Great. Some one to pay my brothers rent, it'll help him out, I'm all for it. My brother gets to stay in the armpit of the nation chasin after his girl, I get to keep my incredibly affordable newly remodeled 3 bedroom 2 bathroom home I have found in downtown for $995.00/month. Well, scumbag #9,324, let's call him...B- and no that's not a coincidence that B stands for Broke ass Bitch. So I meet B through a friend, we become acquainted, he moves in. It's cool for like a day. Cause instantly he's comin up with some bullshit as to why he doesn't have any money. How does he not have any money? He works two jobs, his child support isn't unrealistic, he drives a car with like 150,000 miles on it...what the hell is goin on? But I'll be patient. I'll work with him-like a DUMB BITCH. We got to a point where we didn't even speak when we saw each other in the house, walking past each other like we never met. I don't know why our relationship turned like that. We used to be cool. He became one of those people that just drove me the fuck insane. Prolly cause he owed me so much damn money but...He would actually use my laundry detergent, and if it ran out he had his own stash in his bedroom. Who the hell hoards laundry detergent. Never took the garbage out. Would pile it under the kitchen sink in a small can until you could barely shut the door. Oh and my favorite...Would take my laundry out of the WASHER, and just leave it wet in random cardboard boxes. Never contributed to any household products of any sort...would turn the heat up to 83 and leave it on all day while he was at work. Why'd he care he wasn't paying for shit...

I have tried to think of reasons why he started acting stank all of a sudden....Is he embarrassed (side note: he should be ashamed that he couldn't afford to come out of pocked $400.00/month flat fee for everything)? Was he too busy having his wife in my house during the day, and his girlfriend there at night, and incorporating a female roommate into conversation was just to complicated for him? Iunoo...

Where's a bitches money? I don't give a fuck if he was humping Asexual midgets in that room, or if he was selling his rotten penis for $2 a hit....Just bring me my money. His total balance is $660 that he owes me. His excuse was he had to put down a deposit for his own place since the lease at the house was up. Now, if he was a smart, considerate person he would say..."Damn, I don't have shit. I prolly ain't gon' have shit for a while...lemme move into a rent by the room where my broke ass was before." Nooo....he didn't say that to me, whom has a whole house full a'shit that I can't just go stay at some sleazy motel, or by the lot at some dirty trailer park. He boldly looked in my face and explained why he and his 2 laundry baskets of clothes, and 1 pool stick, deserved to move into a new place....while I get to sit around like retard waiting for this money to come, that, p.s. ain't never coming....

He changed his phone number the day before he moved out, finally called me....on some yet again broke as a joke bullshit. Said he would call me Monday with my money. Monday came and went. Tuesday, I blew the hell up out of his phone. When I wasn't callin, my girl was, when she wasn't callin my ex was. So I hear my ex smackin his gums this morning, huffin and puffin, cursing in his foreign language of backwoods Trinidadian...I wake up, ask what's wrong....This MF turned his phone off. Not off as in to voicemail. OFF as in it's disconnected. Now maybe his broke ass didn't pay the bill, but what are the chances....Looks like Bella gonna hafta run up in the job today...cause I know where BOTH his jobs are, and his new apartment. I will get my $660.00 worth of driving this man insane. He's gonna be so sick of me that he's gonna have to grow back his hair just to pull that shit out...

As for someone who takes pride in watching all those damn shows:Judge Judy, Maria Lopez, Mathis, Joe Brown, this list goes on...I should have gotten all this dumb shit in writing saying he owes me money.
I fucked up. I should have kicked his broke ass to the curb. I shoulda stolen his ATM card. I shoulda told his wife about his girlfriend...I guess from now on if a grown ass man looks broke, smells broke, acts broke, and tries to move into my house with two laundry baskets and a pool stick. I guess I'll have to send his broke ass back to where he came from.

They're not makin love no more...

they took us through five steps, April Showers, made us realize who's sleepin in what bed, and they never made a promise they couldn't keep...and apparently, they aren't getting back together.

I'm devastated. No really. Was anybody else elated for the Dru Hill reunion...It came and went faster than the buffet at an Italian wedding.

And the shenanigans were taped.....



*tear

☼Peace☼Love☼ shit just Peace and Love