"Must not have been paying attention..."

...I stepped right on in it, didn't even notice how deep I was..."

Even while it was happening,. I'd chalked my birthday and the days immediately following it up as my birthday present from him. It all just seemed kind of deliberate, as if he'd  maybe started an argument or something with her just so that he wouldn't have to explain his absence for those days, but who knows. We still spoke and saw each other as frequently following those days of my B-Day cupcaking bliss, but with less overnights. This went on for about two weeks before the realization finally hit me: I had definitely fell in love with this man.

Now to say that this shocked me is an understatement. I mean I was actually texting my friends msgs like:

"I LOVE this nigga?!?!? Why the f@*k didn't ya'll hoes tell me?????" 

Now I had been saying it to them for awhile...(that I loved him)...but when I said it, it was more of a that's-the-dude-I-can't-stop-thinking-about-and-would-rather-chill-with-than-any-other-dude kinda way. Not in the I'mma-marry-this-nigga kinda way.

I can pinpoint the EXACT moment that my feelings became clear to me (those on my facebook friend's list can attest to that) and the reason is so simply: he was honest with me. Even though he knew the truth would hurt me and (potentially) jeopardize what ever it is that we have. But he looked me in the eye and told me the truth anyway. That is all I have ever asked of the men that I allow in because it is the one thing that I can guarantee that they will receive from me. I have NEVER experienced my request actually being granted...and without any arm-bending or food -poisoning whatsoever.

Between that and everything else that rocks about him,  I really didn't stand a chance.

The moment I realized how I really felt about him, I told him to hurry up and finish the drink he had been nursing because I needed to tell him something and he needed to be drunk to hear it. ( so dramatic, I know) Somehow we got *ahem* distracted and never got around to me telling him. However, while we were...uh..."ya know"-ing, he stopped mid-stroke, looked me in the eye and said, "You love me don"t you?" Of course, I confessed.

But...he never said it back.

I honestly don't know the EXACT sequence of event from there on. But to the best of my recollection, he and I continued to be ok (for the most part) for maybe another week until all of a sudden I barely saw/heard from him. I think I went about a week and a half with no contact (he STILL had not gotten a phone to replace the one he'd lost months ago. Even after I'd bitched and moaned about it for weeks.) It got to the point where I couldn't take it anymore and told him point blank, "Love me or leave me the fcuk alone!" I told him how it hurt me to, in essence, be in love by myself. Especially seeing as how he had yet to respond to me professing my love to him - AFTER he'd asked me point-blank. I felt like a sucker. An exposed sucker to be exact. I felt like he played me. Like he was just a heart-collecter, and now that he knew I loved him, he knew he could get away with even more bullshit without worrying about losing me.

I told him I needed for him to tbe he one to end contact because, in all honesty, I did not feel as if I was strong enough to be the one to walk away. He told me straight up that I was bugging if I thought he'd really leave me alone. I told him then I would have no choice but to change my number and end all contact with him for awhile. He laughed and said, "So I'm just supposed to not call you?1?" That doesn't even sound right coming out my mouth".

I told him since he was having such a hard time choosing where to be, he should just leave me alone and focus on his family since that was what really was important in all of this. He told me that doing that WOULD be choosing and asked what made me think it would be just that easy for HIM to walk away from ME. That was honestly something I hadn't even considered. I honestly couldn't understand why he seemed so tormented when the solution seemed so clear to me. You want your daughter to have her family. I am not apart of that family. I am the weakest link - goodbye.

I told him it was over. Period. We made love again and I told him it would be the last time. He asked if I would ignore his calls, I told him that I would try my very best to. He said it wouldn't stop him from calling. I asked him for the umpteenthed time to NOT call me and to give me some time. When  he called me the. very. next. day. I answered. We chit-chatted. When it come time for us to hang up, he told me he'd call me the next day. I told him NOT to bother calling me unless it was to give me a day/time when we would meet face-to-face so that he could tell me in great detail, how HE felt about ME. He said ok and that was that.

He did not call the next day. Or the next...or...the...next. I changed my number five days after our last conversation. I felt as if I would go insane less quickly if I could trick my mind into believing that he was trying to call, I'd just changed my number too soon. Instead of what was probably closer to reality: Perhaps I had become too much of a liability as a side- dish. In my head he was laughing with his friends about me and saying thngs like, "Feelings? That is not what this was supposed to turn into. This bitch tryna make me choose?? Nah, I'm out!!"  I mean, if I had a penis, that would probably be what I would do (clearly I'd be just as trifling as a dude) *kanye shrug*

But...as time would tell...that is soooo totally NOT how he felt about me AT AL.

To be continued.... {Sorry Suga. :)}

Side-Piece Blues

Ok, so if you all recall, Obama went back home to give his family another try the end of June. That shit hurt like hell, I swear.  But. at the same time, I was able to get myself into kind of a pilot mode where I was just kind of numb instead of hurting. I was only able to do that because I knew hoped that it was no where near the end of what ever it was that he and I were. He had already made too much of a presence in my life, so us not communicating at all was totally out of the question - for both of us.

However, there was absolutely no denying that our relationship had definitely changed. i went from waking up to him every morning and going to sleep caressing his back every night, to only seeing him once a week like we had in the beginning. At times, I didn't even get that. This was for the best, I know, especially since i was the main one to vocalize that I was a distraction to what he was trying to work on. It just hurt like a son-of-a-bitch for him to agree and begin to handle me accordingly. He also lost his phone around his time and refused to replace it because "she" often went thru his phone and he didn't want problems. So not only did I see him at BEST, once a week, I barely got to talk to him and when I did it had to be HIM that called ME. That time  perriod was some bullshit, but it had it's benefits.

In that time I was able to concentrate on my son and get him re-adjusted to being back in MOMMY's house. Sweet Black Pipe also played a role as "potential boo". He's still in the picture to an extent, but only as an extra  basket to hold a few eggs in. *shrugs*

Obama re-appeared significantly the week of my birthday (the last week in August).  We didn't discuss the status of his home life, but I deduced from the amount of time I was suddenly receiving (overnights included) that the warm, fuzzy feeling they'd experienced while the baby (who is just fine and preparing for her 1st birthday next month) was in the hospital had worn off. As far as he and I, it was like we never missed a beat. We fell right back into "us" immediately.

I went out with my girls on the night of my birthday (which damn near ended me in jail for the attempted murder of one of my closest and dearest childhood friends {Egypt}....sigh....another blog, another story...)

Anyway, Obama was waiting for me when they dropped me off at home and he and I spent the rest of the weekend, and most of that week together.....a week later, he was  gone again.

Half Baked

***Editor's Note: This was actually written on the 28th- (Sunday Night) but due to technical difficulties I couldn't post it then

I am sitting in my new apartment thinking about how, at this precise moment, I am feeling like the grown-butt-woman I knew and looked up too when I was a youngin. Just a few years ago I was looking at young women who had decent-paying full-time jobs, their own dope ass apartment and their kid (if they even had one) was always put together and she herself was never off-point appearance-wise. I am finally she. I still sometimes see chicks doing something I know for a fact is difficult to do, and wonder how they manage to pull it off so effortlessly (or at least succeed in portraying it to be such) not even realizing the difficult shit I face and conquer each day that other chicks (be they younger or not) try their damndest and can't pull off..

IDK....This blog post was supposed to be me telling ya'll that Friday was Obama's birthday and he spent the night and most of the following day with me, and him being on his way here right now, and me being confused again.

But, I'm high. And this is the blog you got, dammit.

Read it and weep bitches. Don't care if it don't make sense. Like I said I'm hiiiigggghhhh!!!

lmao

These are my confessions...

I miss Mr. Big. {check the labels with his name to get caught up if you ned to. I'm way too high to link shit right now.}

I'm tired of being single. Nah, fuck that. Since this is confession time, let me word it as I feel it: I'M LONELY! :(

I realize the the way I'm dealing with my father's death is by worrying about my mother. It's like I don't ever really relax b/c I convince myself that she needs me. So I'm back and forth at her house all week. Yep, maybe it's that me saying I don't want her to be by herself is also me saying I don't want to be by myself..

I'm pretty high right now.

I'm also pretty high. As in I look pretty when I'm under the influence. Conceited? Yes. So?

Oh yea...

I just wanna say...I see that I now have 25 followers...I remember when I only had 3...so yea...for the record...I like, I appreciate ya'll and shit...even if most most of ya'll fuckers don't comment. :)

Now ain't this 'bout a ...

Following are random babblings from an extremely drunk, fed up chick..... (Don't judge me fu**ers)...

Next month marks one full year since I began my relationship with "The Chief". Since then I have been dependent on others to get me lifted. First it was Mr. Big, then it was "OG"(whom I haven't spoken to or heard from since we had an incident back in May *tee hee* another day, another day...), occasionally it would be my partner-in-crime and then it was The Killer. Whomever it was that bought "The Chief" and I together, it was never me just going to my local corner pharmacist and getting it myself. Now that all of the previously mentioned people are either dead to me or determined to stay in the house until she cops a new whip (I hate her for that by the way), I am doomed to go without. Fu**ed up thing is, when I didn't partake, EVERYone around me did and I was always the odd man out. Now that I DO get down, it seems like those I surround myself with either have to stay clean for some job or are trying to be "responsible" WTF?! This brings me to my next point...

I'm a backwards ass.... When my friends were out wildin' a few years back, I was at home making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, having "movie nights" watching all four seasons of "Dinasaurs" and helping the kid with his homework. Now that I have myself an entire school year off (the kid is a few states away staying with his paternal grandparent - long story), I find myself left to pAAArty alone. Even my partner-in-crime who, despite having a child way earlier than I, had a moms who didn't mind being her enabler and damn near raising her daughter for her (again, a long story). Anyway, even she is now at home doing the single mom thing (now with a whole new second baby that needs her attention.) All I wanna know is, when the hell did everybody grow up??? Is it so wrong that I wish she would be an irresponsible, neglecting f**k up for just one more year so we can run the streets together??? I don't wanna always have to depend on my flavor of the month to keep my nights occupied.I wanna party with my girls (the other ones are working non stop and/or boo'd up or pregnant) Ugggh. We can never all be in sync. Ain't that some old bullsh*t?!?!?!? I've only got another two good years to blame my reckless behavior on my twenties and only one of those will be without my baby's ever-impressionable eyes a'watchin" lol I NEED TO BE GETTING IT IN DAMMIIT!!! Too bad I'm not a people person, I'd have me a whole new crew of young chicks with no responsibilities what so ever to help me drain the bars and tease the boys. Speaking of boys...

The Killer has lost his ever loving mind. He's losing focus, so I've been backing off to teach him a lesson. Once he notices, I'm sure he'll get it together... lol (ok, that was a joke, but , truth be told, dude is the sole reason why I'm 3 sheets to the wind right now. I'll supply details later...if things get better with us...if not, I'll just never mention his a*s again. *Kanye shrug* That's how it be's sometimes...which leaves me no choice but to recognize the fact that....

I've noticed that I only like a guy if I have to do the chasing. I've had three guys recently damn near profess their undying love to me and I kinda just gave them the gas face and laughed. I really need to get over this issue that I have. Like if a guys comes on extra strong, I automatically assume he's out to get me because (I guess) I don't think I'm worthy enough to have them genuinely want me that much? Which is really kinda weird considering I happen to be one of the most conceited people I know...weird...just one more thing to be worked out in therapy, I guess ( when I can afford it, that is). Which reminds me...

I got a raise at work...not what I asked for, but a raise nonetheless..so Whoohoo?!? I'd say I'm in what they call the "golden handcuffs". I want to leave (ONLY b/c this is not the field I want to work in and I see no real room for growth.The job itself is just fine tho), yet I make just enough to keep me satisfied plus its so damned convenient. I may stay until I'm done with my Masters. We'll see...

My urge to "Chief" was so strong earlier that I literally wanted to cry. CRY. I won't go so far as to say I'm an addicted, but damned if I ain't headed in that direction. And it's not just the "high" part that I wanted. I longed to lick the blunt wrapper and roll up...wtf??? I know... *hangs head in shame while looking out the corner of my eye to see if anyone pulls out a bag out of pity for me* Which brings me to my next point....

Drug dealers suck!!!. I'm just saying, if you gonna sell D. Ruggs then sell D. Ruggs dammit. So tired of all this "I don't sell after 8pm" or "Call me back at whatever time". N*gga, you are a drug dealer...deal the fu*king drugs already!!! Smch

I think I may finally be sleepy... thank you Paul Masson!

'Nite people!

Drugs Are Bad

Some of my thoughts from the last 24 hours:

I should totally become the world's first African-America, female serial sniper. My goal is to get all of my exes by shooting them in just one nut. I'd also shoot a couple of random guys just so that the connection is not just on me. I won't kill anyone cause like Madea said, they give you too much time for that. But I'm seriously thinking that the thought of the no-gooders walking around with half their nutsack blown off would TOTALLY be worth serving a few consecutive attempted murder sentences. And as if to confirm that this is my destiny, while looking for a pic for the blog, I stumbled across this ^^^ pic. *purple is only my most favoritest color in the whole wide world!* It's a sign I tell ya....

For some reason I cannot stop thinking the work "Doppelganger". I don't know why, but the word pops in my head at the randomest times and I have no choice but to say it aloud whenever it happens...weird...

I realized I may take my need to know too far. Saturday as I was walking across the street on my block, a woman in a truck asked me for directions to our community center. I recognized her face and started to say 'Hey, what's up, Lu" until I remembered that she doesn't know me. In fact, the only way I know her is from doing some "investigating" on Mr. Big a few years back using the interwebs. She wouldn't know me from a can of paint. Oh what a dangerous tool this world wide web is ...smh

The Killer and I were "building" last night into this morning ( I have not slept AT ALL and I still came to work like a good little worker mule). Anywho, we were "building" and I let him in on my sniper plans. I also told him that if I live to be 80 than I'll start poisoning people around me with tainted cookies and kill my neighbors slowly or something, you know, just because. He, always the thinker, mentioned jail time and the possibility of me being raped. My response? "That makes it even better!! How else will I get young, rock hard dick as an eighty year old woman? I can go in there and smut up the joint real good for my final days. Yay! lol I love that he "gets me" and my sick ass sense of humor. But that;s probably because I get his. because he then informed me that would "most def" fuck and 80 yr old woman. Talkin' bout he'd call Hugh Hefner afterwards bragging like, "Yea, I'll be like I broke that bitch hip, son!!! When was that last time you broke a bitch hip from fucking her?!?!?!?"

We're sick, I know*

I'm thinking of changing my name to Angela and not telling anyone and just ignoring anyone that fails to call me by my new name.

I may have a death wish...I threatened to "stab the shit" out of The Killer TWICE last night/this morning. I also remember telling him (within the first two weeks of us kicking it) that he bought out a violent side of me that I didn't know I had and that I often envision myself capping him and watching his head recoil back in slow motion as a bloody tooth escaped from betwixt his lips. Last night he just mushed me and told me to shut up and grab his dick. (we laughed as I shrugged my shoulders, grabbed his dick and layed my head on his chest as we layed there and talked about how disrespectful Tupac was on his single "I Hit "em Up")

SMH

So dysfunctional....

*No 80 year old women were harmed in the writing of this blog

Yes, bitch, I told Harpo to beat you.

So, in light of the Rchriahhnais (what? not all power-couple name-splices are cute, ppl), I decided to dig in the crates back over on da S'pace and pull out a blog I wrote regarding domestic violence against woman. Now this was written May of '07 and I cannot say that my opinion on this has changed. Regarding Rchriahhnais specifically, I say that Chris Brown needs to be charged and get his ass wooped by a couple of men. I've played every scenerio in my head of what could have went down and each time he comes out looking like a big 'ole saggy, smelly pussy. (yes, I could have made p-word all pretty and put 5's instead of S's or something, but you will soon learn that this just isn't one of those blogs. Plus I am forcing myself to not be afraid of that word anymore.) But yea, he's a big 'ole douchebag. I'm saying, a backhand or something would have prolly sufficed to at least calm her down if she was wildin'. But 'ole boy waa-aa-aa-aaailed on dat ass! That shit just ain't right.

SMDH

Anywho, the blog is below and it features Mr. Big (he's the one I slapped, not the one I bit)

 {Sidebar: Didn't that last sentence make me sound massive badass??? lol}

___________________________________________________________________________

Since the end of my semester I have had the thought of abusive relationships on my mind. I hesitated in blogging about it because I am fully aware of the fact that my view of some cases of physical abuse aren't the most popular. But then I realized. . .when have I ever given a damn about someone disagreeing with me????

Anywho, those who know me are already familar with my stance on men hitting women: It is absolutely wrong and bitch-like for a man to even think about beating a woman. And doing so should lead to him being confined to a tiny cell with a Big man who likes other men for a looong time. That being said. . .I don't buy into the whole "It's never right for a man to hit a woman. . .blah, blah, blah." shit

Say what you want about woman being smaller and weaker physically. . .but c'mon. . .some of these chicks are just begging to get hit. {Sidebar #2: if ur feeling tight all up in ya chest already, please refer to the heading of my blog page* That's right, I said it. . . .some. women. ask. tobe. hit. Case in point, remember the scene in Baby Boy. . .when he was trying to leave but his girl kept trying to hold him and was hitting him and shit? Remember how he backhanded her ass? Yup, she had that one a comin'!

All I'm saying is, women who do shit like that. . .and provoke men and try to prevent them from walking away and putting space between each other should fully expect to get the taste smacked out their mouth. Please don't get me wrong, I'm only talking about these woman, not the ones that are getting the life beat out of them for no.damn.reason, other than the fact that their men are nuts. No, I am only talking about the woman who will go so far as to hit the man first and then be confused when they wake up 30 minutes later on the ground. Now mistake me not, I have done it myself. I smacked the taste out of my last boyfriend's mouth after I found out he'd been cheating. But. . .please understand. . .despite his size, I was FULLY prepared to fight that man. In fact, i smacked him just so that he would know I wasn't playing with him. He was fully aware of how I felt about women who hit men and I needed him to understand that i was ready to get it poppin. I still think I could have taken him if he'd hit me back. Only because i was that mad. . .being that angry gives you a superhuman strength like no other. He must've seen the crazy in my eyes cause he just walked out and didn't look back. lol That was the only man I've ever raised a hand to and even then, I would have been ready for whatever he thru at me as a result on my actions.

I truly believe that the fundamental difference between men and women is that women tend to be very v o c a l. They wanna talk shit out all day and all nite. Guys are more like "give me a minute to think, damn!". Plus, they're, for the most part, not too big on the whole arguing thing. So for a man and woman to be arguing heatedly and to have the woman physically prevent the man from leaving or even raises her hand to him? Yea, I can totally understand why she'd get her jaw tapped.

Now I know what some of you are think. . ."how could she condone that?" "You can't say something like that if you've never been in the situation" " Why must we always blame the victim?". To you people, I say. . .you are absolutely right. No, I have never been hit by a man, but I have had a boyfriend that thought it was ok to grab me, hold me somewhere against my will, pop up at my girlfriend's house to "take me home cause I was taking too long", the list can go on and on to the break of dawn with all the crazy shit he did in the short time we dated. Now this dude was 6'5", weighed 200+, stayed working it out at the gym and could pick my ole' chunky ass up with absolutely NO problem. But even with his size and strength being so superior to mine, I reacted ev-er-yyyy time he got out of hand. The most relevent time being while we were at his house and he tried to stop me from leaving to catch the very last bus home after he and I had argued damn near the entire day. He was grabbing me and was pinning me against the wall (and not in the good way schm). Then, as he had my hands pinned above my head against the wall. . he tried to kiss me. As if that situation was turning him on somehow. Freaked out by that, I did the ony thing I could do and BIT THE SHIT OUTTA HIS LIP. He yelled. Blood splattered. His female cousin who had been in a back room heard him yell, saw the blood, watched me gather my shit and then dropped me home on her way to taking taking his big dumb ass to the hospital. Yea, it was that bad. He had to get 7 (even though I am quite certain it was more like 11) stitches in his bottom lip. What can I say? I freaked out. And he paid the price for manhandling me, dammit! hmmph.

Plus, I was well aware at the time (I think I was like 19 or 20) that my mom had been abused by TWO of her husbands. That was not going to be me. So I had to make it clear to him that shit like that would not be tolerated. That ended us as a couple, and gave me a very good story to tell future boyfriends to come: I will fight to the death to defend myself and my offspring. It is my natural right.

It is because I feel this way that I also don't understand women that stay in abusive relationships. I know the general belief is that many women stay due to their lack of income, education and general ablity to support themselves independent of their spouse. I am also fully aware that the second assumed reason woman stay is due to lack of self-esteem. Bull! with all of the resource sthat we have these days, it is VERY diffucult for me to grasp the concept of "no options. In 2009? Word? (again, guess I just can't relate)

What do you think, is it as black and white as "Boys don't hit girls" or are there some hues of gray?