The First Fight

It was inevitable. I knew it was coming, but I'm still not sure how to handle my disappointment.

I invited Four to Gutz' wedding about a month ago - the wedding itself was held yesterday. I told him that it was to be a ghetoriffic affair, bride all tatted up, groom with cornrows and tatts as well, held in a place (not a church) right in the middle of the hood. I also said that some of my favorite people would be there and I would like for him to meet them. My gorgeous lil cuz (who's 21 and at least 6 feet tall so I should really stop calling him my lil cuz!), my god daughter, Cousin T, my aunts - so I was happy to be going. And at the least I expected it to be entertaining.

The disagreement started a month ago when I showed him the first dress I had planned on wearing. He didn't like it, which was fine but a bit of a let down. I love to shop, so I found another dress - it was $20 and adorable so that kind of took the sting out of him not liking the first dress. But then he said that this dress was too short. It covered my ass and nothing was hanging out, it wasn't skin tight, so I figured he would get over it. Now for the next escalation.

Four assistant coaches some 13+ boys in a basketball league. I asked him if he was sure that he could make it or if he had a game the day of the wedding. He tells me that yes they have a game but that he should be able to make it and if anything that he would just meet me at the wedding. Ooooookay! I'm thinking that he has a game at 11 or 12 and that he'll be down at 1, head home to take a shower and still be just able to make it to the wedding at 3:30. Then last week, he tells me how the head coach cancelled practice on Thursday and Friday so that he could go to a friends rehearsal dinner and wedding. I'm hoping that he will take the cue and say that he can't make it to the game on Saturday so that he can be my date. No such luck

To make matters worse, my cousin who is the photographer asks me for my help since he is the one giving Gutz away. I'm excited for the opportunity since I recently started getting back into photography, something that I haven't done since I was a sophomore in college. I tell Four thinking he'll be excited since I am, and his reaction is "So you're going to be leaving me alone with a bunch of people I don't know!?" I'm calm, cool and collected even though I'm more than disappointed in his reaction. I don't point out that that is exactly what he did to me when we went to the wedding in VA. I don't point out that in VA, he didn't have a specific function that kept him from being with me, he was just off talking to his friends. Instead I tell him that I will make sure that he is seated with Lil Cuz since they have alot to talk about and my Lil Cuz is the best! He still doesn't look convinced and I'm starting to get nervous about how this wedding is going to play out.

The day of the wedding, I wake up early to take care of some stuff and around noon I send him a text message to see what he's up to. I'm expecting him to tell me that he's in the middle of a game and instead he waits about 10 minutes before texting me back and telling me that he doesn't start coaching until 1. WTF!!!! If he had been in Brooklyn, where the wedding is, or even in Queens, where he lives, I wouldn't have been concerned. But he's not, he's in Harlem and I can see no possible way for him to make it to the wedding. So I say as much, I send him a text that said "So your not going to make it to the wedding..." He waits an additional 20 minutes, til about 1:30 and then he calls me. He tells me that he has his clothes with him. Getting madder because even though I told him it was a ghetto wedding, I still expect him to take a shower before getting dressed. He tells me that the game has been forfeited and that his boys won. Getting even madder because the way I see it that means that he REALLY didn't need to be there. He tells me that he's about to leave and he can make it to the wedding. Getting really mad because I feel like he should have been in the car already making his way to Brooklyn. So I tell him not to bother, that I can go to the wedding by myself, he doesn't have to come with me.

I'm mad and I'm the first one to admit that most people do not act rationally when they are upset. But it's the way I feel. Sure he could have made it to the wedding and I really didn't expect it to start on time (actually didn't start until after 4) but I was feeling like he didn't really take it seriously. Like his priority was the boys basketball team, not going to a wedding with me. I'm thinking about how I spent 4 days in VA to go to a wedding with him. How I paid for my plane ticket. How I spent one of those days mostly alone because he couldn't fly down til Friday night and I came in on Thursday night. How he left me alone at the table while he went and entertained his best friends girl. How he would walk off and have conversations with people and leave me alone at the table and how I would have been madder about it had I not gotten along so well with one of the women at the table. And I don't want to deal with him. So when he sends me a text 20 minutes later that he's on his way to Brooklyn and am I sure that I don't want him to come, I say "no thanks!"

And when I get there and he's sending me text messages about how badly I behaved, I indulged in a text fight for awhile, then realized that I was having a good time at the wedding and told him I didn't want to deal with him now because I was enjoying myself. I was even more pissed off that he would feel the need to lash out at my reaction DURING the fucking wedding. Felt like he was trying to make sure that I didn't have fun. I also got pissed when he told me that he felt that I reacted badly. I didn't curse him out, or scream, or anything of the sort. I just calmly told him that I didn't want him to come with me. When he texted to tell me that my reaction and choice not to have him come was not cool- I told him that I would rather be at the wedding alone than have him with me and be pissed off the whole time because of unresolved issues. Sure the issue is still unresolved but because he wasn't sitting next to me I was able to put it aside and actually enjoy myself.

I know that I made the right decision telling him not to come with me but I know that today is a new day and eventually I'm going to have to deal with my anger at him...

SuperSlagalicious!

That's not to be confused with the Swagalicious one

One day, I'm on my way to work and the trains were all kind of fucked up. Luckily I end up practically chest to chest with this dreaded wonder that was about 6'4".  Unfortunately I was too close to look at his face without him knowing full well that I was looking at his face, so I'll just have to imagine that he was cute.  15 minutes and 1 whole stop later (despite what you may think about NYC, that is definitely not the norm) I feel a tap on my shoulder.  I manage to wiggle around and who should it be but my infamous cousin SuperSlag.  I really want to be snarky after her whole "I will do whatever I have to so that I don't ever have to take the train again" spiel about 5 years ago.  But in reality I'm kind of proud that she returned that ugly ass Jag rather than have it repossessed - like her other cars.  (ooops!  I guess I just can't contain the snark)

So she gets off at her stop and I continue on my journey.  Get off to transfer trains and there is literally a sea of people heading away from the platform that I'm heading to.  Nobody bothers to mention to the people heading up the platform that the trains aren't running until I run into Keek - one of SuperSlags bestest since like the early 80s.  Now I will say this about SuperSlag, I really can't knock most of her friends.  I'm not talking about the people that she brings around.  I'm talking about people that she's been hanging out with for like evah.   Like me actually or even Cousin T.  Her other bestest, E is also cool as hell.  Anyway, Keek tells me what's going on with the trains (somebody passed the fuck out on the train and service was suspended) and she's heading the same way as me so we head on uptown together using another train (and another fucking transfer damn it!)

I tell her its crazy that I ran into her cause I just saw SuperSlag on the train, and she hits me with a very suspicious "Really."  I ignore the interesting tone and continue on with, "Yeah two people I never see on the train and I run into both of you within 10 minutes of one another!"  What can I say, I can be chipper as fuck and play ignorant like the best of them.  I didn't know what had happened, but obviously something was up.  Keeks goes on to tell happy sweet Tiki (she's known me since I was a kid, and I really am a sweetheart to people I like.  Problem is I don't like most people.) that she's about to take SuperSlag to court for the $2000 she loaned her back in the beginning of the year.  Turns out when SuperSlag needed to find a new apartment it was Keek's uncle that let her move into one of the houses that he owns.  Turns out that after WackThug left SuperSlag, Keeks was the one to bring her food when she found out from her cousin that lives downstairs that SuperSlag hadn't been out of the apartment in about a week.  Turns out that when SuperSlag couldn't pay her rent a couple of months later, it was Keeks that loaned it to her - something that no one in the family knew.  (I can honestly say that at one point or another, just about all of her family members have lent her money to pay rent ect. and not gotten a penny of it back, myself and Mommy included.)  Turns out that Keeks even gave her a couple of months to pay it back.

And you know what SuperSlag does?  She stops answering the phone when Keeks calls and then she stops answering the phone when E calls too.  She's avoiding her bestest like the plague.  So she's getting sued.  And you just might get the chance to watch it on Judge Judy!

The Boys...

...Hi Swag!  Hi Torrence! 

I can't help it Lady Shay!  I have always loved males.  Ever since I was a little girl, boys have fascinated me.  So much so, that the majority of my best friends have been males.  In fact, all of my friends that are not related to me (by friend I mean people that I have known for more than 10 years) are male.  When my sister and cousins wouldn't let me play with no, no problem, I just went and played with the boys.

That probably wouldn't have been a problem if I actually looked like a tomboy.  I've always loved clothes, so even when I was playing with the boy, there was no mistaking that I was a girl.  By the time I was 12 I had touched just about every adolescent penis on the block.  Don't take that to mean I was loose, at least I wasn't loose yet.  Alot of those touches resulted in a lot of pain for some unlucky little boys.  And the only boy that ever tried to touch me back, is still trying to get his left nut to descend.  I was just insanely curious and a penis was something that I didn't have.  I'm not ashamed to say that they fascinate me and I want one.  Not to replace what I have mind you.  

It wasn't until I was 13 that I realized that girls aren't really very nice to girls that hang out with boys.  Specially if they like said boys and can't understand why said boy would hang out with flat chested long legged girls that mostly hang out with boys.  Specially when its well known she doesn't put out (yet.)  Specially when she's definitely not a lesbian, shit, shes got absolutely no need for snot nose girls. 

Then as I got older, and I actually was putting out, my boys still had me.  Telling me when ever one of their little chicks would pop shit about me, usually right in front of the girl.  Punching dudes in the face cause they tried to play me.  Taking me to the supermarket in the middle of the night or the package store in the middle of the day.  Coming to get me when they know I don't have a ride.  Always being gentlemen even when they ain't getting no ass.  Never making fun of the fact that sometimes I eat more than they do.

So forgive me if I gush over the boys, they've always been quite special to me.

(BUT BOY DO I LURV ME SOME LADY SHAY! I think its the boobs, I don't have those either...)

and Hi Afro! - even though I consider you one of the girls, in a good way

Boo!

Yes I know it's been awhile.  And a lot has happened in the land of Trouble...

• Almost got back with PYT
• Got back with Brownie
• Went to Martha's Vineyard with Cousin T and The Gang
• Got the plague from Gutz (she's Bobbie when she ain't giving me contagious viruses)
• hung out with J.O. (he's Cousin T's best friend)
• hung out with Bubba a couple of times
• saw Grant Hill!  (oh my Gawd! can I just say that I have had a crush on that man since he played for Duke and if that didn't make me feel old, the 10 year old twin boys I was with at the time had no idea who he was - the man is still fine.  No disrespect Tamia)
• went on my annual trip to the movies (I am REALLY not a fan of sitting in the cold cold dark with a bunch of strangers surrounded by surfaces whose cleanliness are entirely too questionable for my liking. I saw Hancock - felt like it was missing a half hour, but entertaining for the most part.)
• found a temp agency that actually got results.  as in sent me on more than one interview within the first week of me interviewing with them.  as in ALL of the jobs that they sent me on were in my salary range AND interesting as hell.  as in bitch got two offers...
• oh, did I mention I got a job?
• got a kick ass job
• got an exciting wonderful challenging engaging lucrative position 
• did some serious shopping on a budget
• ran into Giraffe from the OldJob on the train one morning.  Congratulations on the baby boy!
• went to a couple of parties
• i think i might have run into a boy that i used to love when I was a freshman and sophomore in college.  shit, he loved me too, a least a couple of nights. well anyway, dude was a lot paler and not as cute as i remember.  hence, the i think i might have, instead of a oh, i ran into.
• made some spec-fucking-tacular red velvet cupcakes for MonkeyBoy's 9th Birthday.  It was at Dave & Busters and half the staff was lingering to see if they could get a left over. 
• got really fed up with Brownie's bullshit and came to the conclusion that some dudes just don't change and I am in no way shape or form interested in trying to change any damn body.  I'm not one of those women who is going to tell you what I think you should or should not be doing.  I expect to be dealing with a grown ass man who knows what the fuck is right and what the fuck is going to make me suspect that some shit just ain't right with you.  And if I come to the said conclusion, that some shit just ain't right with you, I am not going to waste any more of my time.  
• told Brownie to have a nice life - wait that's on my to do list...
• saw all kinds of short pant atrocities!  I'm talking ass hanging out the bottom AND the top, thighs that should have been far from hungry devouring inseams like they were baby carrots in a room full of dieting women, all kinds of colored printed and patterned underwear underneath white of all things.  I gotta say ladies, some of you are really trying to give short pants a baaaaad name.  
• saw one of the WORST TATTOOS EVER!!  it was so bad and horrific that I dont even think I can describe it properly.  I was on the beach, and there was a woman in a bikini with flames tattooed around her torso.  But, my gawd, her torso.  And I think the tattooist might have been on crack, or having a seizure, or a heart attack.  Or that might just have been the impression that her cottage cheese gut and stretch marks gave his work...
• bowled a 146! (in Wii bowling but I think it should count, that's my best score evah!)
• I have not been online for more than downloading music/movies/porn (all legally of course!  itunes is my false idol.) so I haven't been reading your blogs.  sorry!  I'm a flake like that.  You should forgive me cause I'm cute.  And did I mention I got a job?  You should be proud of me. I promise to heaps loads and loads of (unwanted) attention on you immediately.  kisses, bitches!
• I missed you all terribly! even that sassy bitch I've been stalking...
• decided to change the blog a little, nothing drastic.  Just realized that a lot of my old content was focused on the OldJob.  I will never say that I didn't enjoy being there at one point, but I am so grateful/thankful/blessed that things worked out the way they did.  I wouldn't be where I am today without them and for that the OldJob will always hold a special place in my heart.  Sadly, it also still leaves a bit of a sour taste in my mouth and I am determined to start fresh.  So, no talk about my job.  Not even a hint, except to say it's great and I love my new boss.  Seriously, love.  But not like that.  Anyway, I started this blog with funny stories about taking the train, and my luck or lack there of in love.  A snarky black woman takes on the world with a bit of humor, a hell of a lot of sass, and a shit load of curiosity.

*Please note that the above list is NOT in order of occurrence.  Names have been changed to protect me from the dumbasses out there, what can I say they outnumber me.  and HI SWAG!

Strange ting gwan

Hautechick is famous for telling me how she saw this guy and he would be just perfect for me!  She never really knows the guys, usually she sees them in the street or on the train and I always end up saying to her, "It's not like you're going to run into dude when I'm with you."  So her tactics have changed.  Recently she's been coming to me with guys names.  She and the Artist are renovating their house, so she called up some contractor tells him her name and the guys says, "Oh, you must be Omar's wife."  Actually she's not but dude has the same last name as her hubbie.  So she says to me, "That would be soooo cool if you married Omar and we had the same initials again!"  How or where I'm supposed to meet this guy, I'll never know.  Sheeet we don't even know what dude looks like.

A couple of weeks past and she says to me, "Hey remember Omar?"  like we really knew dude or some shit.  Well turns out she's was standing in line at the post office behind a guy who she thought was even more perfect for me than the possibly imaginary Omar.  And she knew his government.  Of course my snarky ass says, "Well thats nice that you know his name, but where the fuck do you suppose I'm going to meet him?!"  Weird ass sister comes back with "Google him!"  I'm starting to think that either my sister has stalker tendencies that I knew nothing about, or she really has no faith that I'll be able to find the man of my dreams.  

So, skip forward a couple of days, I'm over at Hautechicks for a visit and decide I'm gonna make a pizza for dinner and want some fresh mushrooms.  Hautechick and the Artist don't have anything to dinner so we all take a trip to Foodtown (one of the local stoopidmarkets).  The line was ridiculous, so I'm standing on line with Hautechick while the Artist (who has the longest legs of the three of us) ran around getting the rest of the stuff that we needed.  Hautechick's running her mouth and I'm only half listening when I spy with my little eye a gorgeous specimen of man candy.  Tall, thin, gorgeous locks I would luv to play in, and I can't take my eyes off of him.  I hear Hautechick gasp then she says, "Oh my Gawd, thats RN! I told you, you would like him!"  It would have been perfect, if it hadn't been for the older woman that was sure not his momma that was with him....

Tangers Outlet

So two weeks ago was gorgeous weather and last week was Spring Break for NYC Public Schools.  Which meant that Cousin T was off of work. YAY!  That meant from the following Friday til this past Saturday, we were hanging out.  We went to a house part two Friday's ago where we got politely drunk and then not so politely made fun of people.  I got to wear my brand new Skinny Bitch t-shirt.  I love that shirt.  And I think I might have said something about wanting to go to Tangers Outlets in Riverhead NY.  There are Tangers all over the country and the one in Riverhead is probably my favorite outlet center in the tri state area.  So Sunday night T calls me and asks if I want to head out there with her and her Mom on Monday morning.  Two words - HELL YEAH!

Ok, so you might be thinking, Bitch don't have a job, what the hell is she doing shopping?  But to be honest, I really didn't spend that much.  Ok so I really shouldn't have gone into the Coach outlet store.  And maybe I didn't really need those navy blue UGGS.  But they were both sooooo cheap that I couldn't leave them and in the past week I managed to wear both of them twice.  The UGGS are the superlow booties and they have been perfect for this reverse spring weather we're having here in NYC.  Really two weeks ago, in the 70s and 80s.  Last week was in the 70s for most of the week then it hit 87 on Thursday.  This week, rainy and in the 60s if were lucky.  And the Coach bag - do I really need to explain about how I feel about Coach?!  (and it was originally over 300 and I got it for about 150.)  I spent about $12 in Old Navy Outlet ( two tank tops, and a v neck sweater - one of the tanks says Drink Until He's Cute) $26 in the Puma Store (a cute pair of brown and pink linen Roma's) about $20 on outfits for NewBabyGirl (I swear I got about 5 outfits!) and about $15 in the William Sonoma outlet on mixing bowls and a spoonula (like a spatula but you can scoop things!)  I found out that both Cousin T and her Mom are obsessed with kitchen gadgets - which is cool cause I am too.

My favorite things by far, were the things that I didn't pay for.  First, was the time I spent with Cousin T and her Mom.  Despite the fact that she's been married to my cousin for most of my life, and has lived around the corner from me for about 4 years, I really haven't spent that much time with Cousin T's Mom.  We had a great time!  And because I gave Cousin T free cupcakes, she bought me a cupcake carrier from Tupperware.  And its turquoise, which is one of my favorite colors!  I love it!  It inspired me so much that I made chocolate cupcakes with fresh amaretto whipped cream and strawberries.  I actually made a mini bundt cake for Cousin T.  Since Hautechick thought my lemon cupcakes were dry, she only got a mini cupcake (which is like one bite) while the Artist got a a jumbo cupcake with cannoli cream (I was experimenting with Ricotta cheese)

Dance MonkeyGirl Dance!

I think I owe you guys about two weeks worth of stories.  The week before last, the weather was so nice that I spent as much time as possible outside.  I spent alot of time being Mommy's garden bitch.  But I also went to the Spring recitals at MonkeyGirls school.  She goes to a school that has programs for both the performing and graphic arts and I think thats great.  I also think that its great that they do not let the children preform if their grades are not up to par.  What I don't think is cool is that there were soooo many children in the audience last time I was there (poor grades.)  What I don't like is that they teach them how to preform, but they don't teach them anything about public speaking.  You get these amazing dancers and singers who had the opportunity to preform at DisneyWorld , graceful as shit til its time for them to tell you about their trip.  Um, ah, em, ummm.  That shit was working my last nerve.

What I also don't like is that had the performance been last week, instead of the week before, MonkeyGirl would have not been able to perform.  Little chit failed her Social Studies test.  I had brought her a new swimsuit but shes not getting shit til she gets her act together.

Also that week was Spring Break for public school kids in Connecticut so Cousin T's lil Cuz C (LCC) was in town.  She's the same age as Monkeygirl and has to be my second favorite 13 year old girl.  She's got 3 brothers, one older and two younger, and I've always loved her for her girly tomboy ways.  Now that she's thirteen, she's also gorgeous, not that she wasn't beautiful before but its become very apparent that her and MonkeyGirl aren't lil girls anymore.  Makes me feel old as shit and hella protective.

So you can imagine my reaction when some lil shits were sitting behind LCC at the performance and were clearly talking shit.  LCC being 13, decided to sit behind us, rather than with us.  She was steadily ignoring that shit, like a junior Bad Bitch, but I was about to jump outta my skin at those lil hating asses.  Cousin T must have read my mind cause she got up and went and sat with LCC with a well heard, "Let me go sit with LCC before I have to knock out someone's child."

The Where I Was...

So last week was ab-so-lute-ly gorgeous in NYC.  I'm talking perfect late spring type weather.  (If you're not from NYC, than that means upper 70s and sunny, slightly cool at night.)  So I spent alot of time out of doors.  I spent about two days giving Duke a shape up.  Of course, a week later and he looks like he could use another trim.  Then I spent an afternoon with Mommy at our local Lowe's Home Improvement.  I found a exotic houseplant whose common name is Lipstick Rasta so of course I had to get it.  Not to mention that its tendrils look like my hair when I put it in curls.  I paid for Mommy's lil Lowe's adventure and she thanked me for her Mother's Day gift. 

For the past couple of years, I haven't remembered when Mother's Day is.  So instead of missing it and being a jerk, I always try and buy Mommy something in early April just to be safe.  As it turns out, thats also the time that Mommy starts to plan out her garden for the summer, so I usually end up getting her plants or garden related items.  Now when ever I buy her any thing of that sort during the month of April, she adds it to the Mother's Day gift list.  She kind of gets over.

So then the next day we spent in the garden together, planting all the shit she got.  I'm not allowed to plant things with out her permission and can only plant things in the places that she designates.  She's a really strict gardener and shamelessly uses me for cheap labor.  On the up side, my ass and thighs are gonna be right for the summer.  All that damned bending, squatting, and lifting is doing a body good!

The whole time, Duke is laying in the grass doing his best impression of an urban lion.  I wish I could say that old age has mellowed him, but every time someone too rowdy got too close to the gate, he would take off like a bat out of hell and scare the crap out of them.  He finally seems to have tuckered himself out, and here comes this little boy from up the block.  I'm hidden behind one of Mommy's ginormous evergreen bushes, and I hear him say to Mommy, "Excuse me miss, where's your dog?"  Mommy points to Duke, splayed out in the grass, and right on cue, he yawns huge at the kid and rolls his eyes.  I love that dog!

And of course after all that time outside, my hair was dirty.   Didn't smell of anything, but I had been sweating and I can't stand nasty dreads.  Since I was at it I put the curls back in.  That shit took forevah, but they look amazing, if I must say so myself.  Then I made lemon cupcakes with raspberry buttercream icing.  I have to admit that I ate most of them myself, but I did give two to Cousin T, Mommy ate probably one less than I did, and I gave one to Hautechick and one to the Artist.  Everyone loved them, except for Hautechick, the asshole.  I'm on the phone talking to her about the Tupperware that Cousin T brought me (its a cupcake carrier!) and she says, "Why would Cousin T buy something for you?  Oh and I meant to tell you your cupcakes were dry."  I said, "What?!" to give the insensitive chit a chance to rephrase and she says, "your cupcakes were dry"  I hung up on her ass and she has the nerve to call me back and then leave a message repeating that she thought my cupcakes were dry, "since you didn't let me finish."

Dogs are barking

• Hello WorldWideWeb, it's me Trouble!
• so I think I mentioned that Superslag wanted me to bake some Red Velvet Cupcakes for her birthday.  I quoted her a price, a cheap price I might add- I gave her a discount on my labor as a gift, and she started hemming and hawing just a little bit but said that she wanted the cupcakes.  Then I don't hear from her for about 4 days and she sends me a text message last Friday, talkinbout -If you made the cupcakes, I'll pay you for them when I can but if you didn't make them yet, can we cut down the number you make?  She originally wanted 2 orders, so I said fine, just let me know when you want them and I'll tell you when I need the money by.  I know her well enough that there was no way in hell I was going to bake the cupcakes without having the money in hand.  So it's Wednesday and I get a call from Teeth (formerly CoHo - Cousin T's other sister - if you need a reminder, she used to have no teeth in her mouth and now she's got these big blindingly white joints and I'm not sure she can close her mouth fully) and she says that she's gonna pay for the cupcakes.  She stops by my house the next day to drop off the money and she says some shit about how SuperSlag was complaining that she wasn't going to have any cake or cupcakes for her birthday so thats when Teeth decided to call me.  Saywhatnow!  That's why I waited, cause she would have had me make the shits and never said a word that she didn't have the money for them.  Teeth tried to throw some shade my way insinuating that I wouldn't be able to make the cupcakes as promised, "Are you SURE you're going to be able to make them?"  I came back with the deadpan, "Why wouldn't I be able to make them?" and that shut her up.  But that brings me to the next bullet in the post...
• So I get up on Friday, and head to the StupidMarket to get ingredients.  This is the second time I'm making them, so I'm pretty confident in my skills and figure I can experiment a little more this time.  I also figure it should be no problem doubling the recipe.  I get home, setting up to start and here comes Mommy.  "So, are you going to do one batch and then set up for the second?"  "No, I was just going to double the recipe and do it all in one shot."  "Oh, well if you THAT confident."  Suddenly I'm not!  I swear, mothers are put on this Earth in part to teach us humility.  I was a little shook, but I continued on with the game plan.  15 minutes later, I had a gorgeous batter and was ready to start cupping.  25 minutes later and I had about half the cupcakes I needed ready to go in to the oven.  25 minutes after that I had the whole order ready and put them in to bake, but I still had a nice amount of batter left.  So I started filling cups and ended up with a nice little snack for the weekend.  After I took all the cupcakes out of the oven I let them cool and ate lunch with Mommy, who stole the first cupcake bite (I found these little mini cupcake cups, which are perfect when you have just a lil batter left.)  After lunch I used my pastry bag to ice them bitches.  They were ready to go at 5.  If I could increase my speed cupping, it wouldn't be so bad.
• now, its like 7, Duke and I are out in the backyard, enjoying the gorgeous spring day and my phone starts singing Chocolate Rain.  It's Teeth, she wants to know where I am.  At home why?  Oh, you didn't finish the cupcakes?  They've been ready since 5, why?  Oh, cause I'm at SuperSlags and I was wondering where you were.  ERRRRRRRRRK!  wait a minute, this bitch told me yesterday that she would stop by my house and help me bring the cupcakes to SuperSlags.  Now, I'm stuck getting damn near 40 cupcakes over to her house.  Granted it's only 4 blocks away, but still.  So I tell her I have to take a shower and I'll be there when I can.  Thank God for Mommy!  Out of the blue, she comes up with this huge plastic platter that will fit all the cupcakes.  She actually got it out of the garage, she was using it for plants.  But she washed it for me and I covered it with tin foil and strolled my ass on down the hill.
• If I was ever serious about selling my cupcakes, all I would have to do is walk around on a nice day with a huge tinfoil covered platter.  It was dark out when I went and I still had about 4 people ask me what was on the platter on my way to SuperSlags. And I think only one of them was hitting on me.
• Cousin T was actually going to come get me when she heard that Teeth left me in the lurch, but I told her not to worry about it.  I hate that she always has to pick up the slack for her sisters so I try not to burden her with the shit the fuck up with.  It helps that I limit my interaction with her sisters.  Plus she had some conditioner in her hair and would have had to come out with a plastic cap on. 
• I get there and everybody is floored by the big platter.  A couple of people also spoke up that I had to walk over there with the platter on my own.  Baba (my cousin, Superslag, Teeth, and Cousin T's dad) is all about the cupcakes.  "Everybody eat so we can have cupcakes!"  And I'm starting to feel nervous cause there are alot more people then there were when MonkeyGirl had her birthday party, and alot of them are very opinionated - to say the least.  And then we're singing and everybody gets a cupcake and it gets kinda quiet then Baba says "I think these are better than last time!"  And I can relax and finally taste one and damn! if I didn't do the damn thing all over again!
• sooooo, remember WackThug, SuperSlag's baby daddy?  wait, thats an understatement, he's the dude that she accused me of sleeping with (her cousin and close friend despite all her bullshit) threatened me over then went on to have a baby by.  well she kicked him out.  Seems her playsister and company caught him out with the next chick and SuperSlag said enough, at least for now.  She kinda made sure that I knew he was gone but I can't say that I'm surprised or that it changes anything between us.  Your chicks before dick, especially when your family.  As if I would ever want to sleep with someone who was sleeping with her.  In my mind that says something about a  dude when he chooses a woman like that, and it ain't something good.  Sure, she's my family, thats why I could overlook alot of her bullshit, but it doesn't mean I was blind to it.  Fuck, I got the closest look at it sometimes...
• and I got the fuck out of there as soon as I could, said I had to go feed Duke, which was true.  SuperSlag asked me if I was coming back after I fed it and I said, "Probably not" and was out with Cousin T and my old buddy Butter (we used to be cool but all I'll say is you can't travel with everybody - that was years ago though)
• my fucking feet are killing me!  I gotta invest in one of those kitchen floor mats that take the strain off of your feet

April Showers

This past Sunday was the first Brooklyn Flea Market.  Going to the flea market with my Mom and Hautey as a kid rates high as one of my favorite things to do as a child.  I even remember going with my Dad and buying pickles from the pickle man.  Dude would be out there (we mostly went to the one at Aquaduct Racetrack, but there were a few others) with like 12 huge barrels filled with different types of pickles.  Daddy used to let me choose my own, but he always let me taste his.  Then there was the sausage and peppers truck, and the zeppole man.  Oh, and the lady with the cheesecakes.  And the italian ices and candied apples.  And occasionally I could talk someone into letting me get cotton candy.  Needless to say, food played a major part in my flea market experiences and thusly (ha! I said thusly!) I really liked going.

So maybe two weeks ago, Mommy's reading the paper and she comes across an article about the new Flea Market thats coming to Brooklyn to be held on the track field at Bishop Laughlin Memorial High School.  Mommy told me that all of the spaces for the first flea market had already been filled with some pretty fancy vendors including that truck that makes belgian waffles.  The whole shebang was put together by  Brownstoners so I figured it wouldn't be anything like the pickle and sweat sock extravaganza's of my youth.  So Mommy called Hautey and we all decided to go together.  Jeanie was chilling with her girls!

The day started off wonderfully, Mommy made Buttermilk Waffles (from scratch cause you know I had to get that shit from somewhere) on her old fashion waffle iron.  You know the kind thats really iron or some other metal, and heavy enough to put a serious dent in someones skull.  The kind you put directly on the burner.  Damn those things were good!  Duke even got one.  Then we hopped in a cab, picked up Hautey and were on our way!

Now, after it all being said and done, theres something to be said for the pickle and sweat sock experience.  What good is a flea market if you have to empty out your savings account to pay for the stuff you like?  I mean the lady with the Marrameko fabric was great.  And so was the lady with the homemade ricotta cheese - I think I just read about her in New York Magazine, Hautey got some and is making me really jealous that I didn't buy some.  And I saw some really cool doors - but the thing about the doors is that some contractor probably ripped them off of some sweet old womans house calling himself doing her a favor and getting her a brand new (ie cheap) door and hauling the old messes away.  But what that sweet old woman doesn't know is, he's gonna strip them, clean them and sell them at a flea market for $4,500 (or was it $5400?).  Then I saw some really nice Danish Modern furniture that I think I might have seen on ebay for half the price.  Oh, and lets not forget the stalls and stalls and stalls of so called "unique" baby clothes.  Cause lord forbid we dress our hipster children in the Gap or some other chain store or brand name!  We want our children to be individuals!  So they all wear the same damned white onesie with a screen print of some old school headphones on it.  Or a microphone.  Or a skateboard.  Or an urban skyline.  Or a stylized monkey - wait, that one was hella cute actually.  But my point is the were all the phucking same you morons!  And I haven't brought for babies lately, but I'm petty sure the onsies are less expensive at the Gap.  Sheet you really wanna be unique buy some white onsies and screenprint them bitches yourself!  Some stiff cardboard, an exacto knife and a little fabric paint and BAM! one of a kind baby onsie.  It's not rocket science.

On the upside, there was no fighting or bickering or name calling.  Even Mommy behaved.  And we walked home so we were all pretty pooped come evening.  But I'm still kinda pissed I didn't get a pickle.

Half Baked

• I really tried to do my homework this weekend but a couple of things slipped through.  Damn you PYT and your flaky ass!  Thats why I ate your cupcake you momo!
  
• WARNING LADY SHAY!!! although if we are still synched, that might have been a little late.  I was early
• I spent about an hour and a half on the phone with my sister the other day.  By the end of the conversation I couldn't breathe, my throat hurt something awful, and tears were streaming down my face.  She reminded me of how I used to put bandaids on myself at night when I was little.  No reason, I just liked bandaids.  One day my Mom found all of the bandaid wrappers under my bed and freaked out a little.  She asked me why I was putting on bandaids, did I hurt myself? and I replied (at least according to Hautechick) "No, I just like bandaids."  I still have a thing for bandaids
• I also used to stick stuff up my nose, which is strange cause I can't even do nasal spray now
• So Cousin T calls me yesterday with a rather strange request.  Superslag (her sister) sent her a text message that morning asking her if she could contact me on her behalf.  It seems that she would like for me to make 33 red velvet cupcakes for her birthday next week.  She tells Cousin T that she would have called me herself, but she doesn't have my number anymore.  Then she says that she will pay me for all of the supplies.  Uh, bitch I know you think your slick, but I'd have to be a real idiot to fall for that one!  I made the cupcakes for your daughter because I LOVE HER, you I just barely started to be able to stand for more than 5 minutes.  I should calculate the cost of supplies, the cost of using the gas to cook those bitches, AND an hourly rate for my time.  I started to charge her a buck each but that is cheap as hell and while I might do that for someone I like, her not so much.
• Speaking of baking and Superslag, I will never forget the time that someone paid her to make them a birthday cake, $20, and this chick makes a box cake and says some shit like, "Do you know how much a box of cake mix cost?!"  Actually I don't, my Mom taught me to bake from scratch and since in my opinion it only takes a little bit more time, and taste 1000 times better, I stick with scratch.
• More interviews.  I'm about to send XBossMan a letter of recommendation for him to sign.  I drafted all of his correspondence in the past and I figure this way I at least know the basis of what the lil shit is going to say in the letter, and I dont have to deal with him everytime I want a recommendation
• Gnarls Barkley in NYC!!!!!
• Is it me or is this season of Top Model excruciatingly boring, the majority of the girls are not attractive or intelligent or interesting in the least.  I cant stand the African chick or the drag queen.  I liked the chick that got kicked off for a hot minute, but even she turned into an ass

Lil Heifer...

So me and Cousin T pull up at SuperSlag's house for MonkeyGirl's birthday dinner and here is lil miss thing standing there looking like a junior me.  I have on black skinny jeans, she has on black skinny jeans.  I have on some Coach high top sneakers, and she's got on the low top version.  I say, "Hey Monk, do we have on the same sneakers?"  And this lil shits gonna say, "Uh uh, mine are Coach!"  with full attitude.  I swear I fell the fuck out and then informed the lil heifer that mine were Coach too!

Oh can I just say I put my whole mutherfucking foot in them red velvet cupcakes!  Cousin T's dad (my actual cousin) used to make THE best carrot cake until his diabetes got out of control.  He never gave the recipe to anyone, not even his daughters.  But he's giving it to me after tasting my cupcakes.  And its a good damn thing he got the diabetes under control cause he ate like 3 of them joints.  Even Mommy, the red velvet hater, ate two and was trying to steal more before I left the house with them.

Oh and I'm working on my homework PrettyBlack!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MONKEYGIRL!

on this joyous day, in 1995, my god daughter was born.  A whole 4 pounds of eyerolling, hair grabbing, hollering, side eyein bundle of joy and rebellion.  Only baby in the incubator room lifting her head up and I think trying to get out of that damned plastic box.  Gosh I love that kid.  You see, she was born my senior year in high school and at the school I attended, seniors were pretty much finished with classes by the end of March.  (The rest of the year was spent preparing for the senior play and doing community service.)  So I spent alot of time with her, I watched her just about every day until I left for college.  And when I was away, my Mom used to get her and bring her up to see me.  They would usually come up on the weekend and I will never forget the time they were there for one of my volleyball games.  She charmed just about everyone in the stands by the time the match was over.  My coach had to cut the post game meeting short because MonkeyGirl would not be denied!  And she was absolutely adorable with her too small self walking and talking when no one would expect her to.  We were once at the library in the children's room at Grand Army Plaza (it a huge library in Brooklyn that in this amazing building - actually alot of the libraries in Brooklyn are architectural gems) and this maybe 8 month old baby waddles by.  MonkeyGirl was about 2 at the time, and still small for her age, she's gonna look at me and say, "Babies can't walk!"  The kids Mom looks at Monkey at says, "well they aren't supposed to talk either, but look at you!"

She's almost as tall as me now, in fact she can fit most of my clothes and some of my shoes.  We're even built alot alike.  Shes a dancer where I was an athlete, so she's not a musclely as I was at that age.  Lucky her.  The summer before my sophomore year, my varsity basketball team went to an Invitational Basketball Camp.  I spent 2 weeks doing nothing but playing basketball and running basketball related drills.  Two days after I got home, I had to go to a wedding.  It was the first time that I had worn anything besides workout gear since being home.  I put on my girly pink dress, took one look in the mirror and burst into tears!  "I look like a boy!"  It was terrible, I looked like a body building reject.  Mommy still made me go to the wedding though.  What's one of my post without a crazy tangent!  I know alot of you were expecting it and I sooo hate to disappoint!  You should see my biceps after I've actually been working out consistently...

Anyway, back to our regularly scheduled post, I am so glad to have that no longer little girl in my life.  So I'm making her Red Velvet Cupcakes for her party tomorrow!  I might even whip out Mommy's decorating tools and get my icing flower on!

AND as a bonus tangent I present to you my theory about birthdays.  When I was a kid and someone asked me how old I was I would say something like, "well traditionally I'm 10 years old, but actually I've been alive for 11 years."  It used to piss Hautechick off for some reason.  But its true!  When some one celebrates a birthday, they are actually celebrating the completion of that year, so when you turn 30 (like I did last November) you are actually beginning your 31st year of life.  I used to wonder about why age was counted this way.  I also wonder if it has anything to do with high infant mortality rates that used to exist before medical practices were standardized.  AND since this post was in honor of my 13 year old god daughter, I didnt even curse!

The Skin I'm In

• lots and lots of water, I drink that is.  Plus the MAC doesn't hurt a bit
• speaking of makeup, the handle on my makeup train case broke this morning and I'm really sad about it, I think I'm going to take it to the shoemaker since its leather and see if he can fix it.
• remember I used to do those post on things that every woman needs?  well I just thought of another one, a really good old school shoe maker.  They can take the calf of your boots in, or if they are really good make them a little bigger.  Stretch your too tight leather shoes (or do it yourself with some wooden shoe trees and some rubbing alcohol) fix the run down heel on your favorite shoes, replace a worn down sole, fix the leather strap on a makeup case, at least I hope so
• i actually had a really bad case of the chickenpox when I was in the 4th grade.  So bad that I missed the last month and a half of school.  I still have the dots all over including one on my right cheek and a couple on my nose.  They just dont show up in pictures for some reason.  Then again people usually think they're birthmarks...
• speaking of the chickenpox, did I ever mention that I have a half brother?  He's a real shit.  Anyway when I got the chickenpox, he was in the Marines and he came to see me when he was home on leave.  that would have been strange considering that we spent hardly any time together when I was a kid, but our dad had just passed away the year before, so he was trying to pretend that he's not an asshat.  Anywho, guess who gave the fucktard the chickenpox and guess who ended up in military quarantine for 2 months?
• and continuing on the theme of my shitwit brother, have I ever mentioned that I'm an aunt?  dont think so.  well anyway come to find out I'm an aunt again.  How did I find out?  My buppy cousin gets an email birth announcement from Shitwits (I really like that one, and it really fits my brother) wife, Shitwitta (shes an ass too), so she forwards it to my Mom, who checks her email like maybe 4 times a month (and that does not mean once a week) who mentions it to me last week.  The kid, a boy, was born on Valentines day.
• my home phone went out this weekend, actually all three lines in the house were acting wonky, so Mommy called Verizon and they said they would be here on Monday morning.  wait I should correct that, the first dumbass broad that answered the phone told Mommy that it must be a problem with one of our phones.  I said that was bullshit and told Mommy to call them back (after she made me check all the jacks - good thing the designers of this house were asses and there are only three of them, one on each floor) and THEN they said they would come on Monday.  And what a day Monday was...
• I'm knocked the fuck out, and I kinda hear Mommy's line ringing on Monday morning, but I rolled over and what do you know, it stops.  then my cell phone rings, it the verizon guy and he's outside.  oops!  So I throw on some sweat pants and a hoodie and answer the door.  Hello!  I was for a minute regretting my choice of attire when I realized that the sweats are kinda low rise and show off my flat belly very nicely and actually make me look like I have hips!  it didn't turn into anything but flirting, but that was my choice.  he called me once after he left to make sure that everything was ok, then he stopped by a little later to "make sure."
• so the verizon guy leaves and Mommy comes home and says, "huh, i thought that they were going to come and read the meter today." and right on cue the door bell rings.  I'm right there, so even though this is something that Mommy usually does, I answer the door.  First off, by this time Duke is pretty sick and tired of getting locked up everytime someone comes to the door, so he sticks his snooze in the door and follows me out into the vestibule.  Good thing I hadn't yet answered the front door.  So after a brief yet frenzied battle with the hairy beast I answer the door.  Dog hair everywhere and a tall young cutie here to read the meter!  Sheesh!  That boy better be happy Mommy was home cause I was seriously thinking about jumping the young man right there in the basement.
• My god daughter is going to be 13 on Thursday!  She wants a Sidekick and/or to go to Dave and Busters with a crew.  I'm all for the Sidekick - shes a good kid and she doesn't have a cell phone, but me and Cousin T had a long ass talk about the Dave and Busters thingamajig.
• I was in Filene's Basement shopping for MonkeyGirl's birthday and I saw the most adorable Ralph Lauren baby girl clothes.  I really was debating with myself if I should buy something for NewBabyGirl, SuperSlag's newest kid, but I decided against it.  She'll take it as were cool again and as always expect more.  It tears me up that I can't buy something for the kid without her Mom trying to hit me up for more.

Sesostris

• I was watching Engineering an Empire : Egypt and now I can't get the name Sesostris out of my head or Snefru for that matter
• ella ella ella eh!
• Last weekend I went to my godson's (MonkeyBoy) basketball game with Cousin T.  We showed up in time for his second game (the first was at some ungawdly hour in the morning) and the other team hasn't shown up, so it was a forfeit.  
  

1. Superslag was there with NewBabyGirl and WackThug showed up.  We're watching the kids shoot around for a while and there's this little boy who is pretty damned good.  Doesn't hurt that he's taller than most of the other kids, but his Jordan's are barely tied.  So I say, "That kid would be awesome if someone took the time to tie his sneakers."  And Cousin T starts choking and everyone else (SuperSlag and WackThug) get quiet.  Cousin T told me later the kid was WackThug's son...
2. MonkeyBoy makes the same stink face as that his mother (SuperSlag) used to make when she was upset about something as a child
3. Cousin T and I went to see her Mommy in the hospital after we left the non-game.  She was doing much better (trying to get us to bring her some real food!) and is actually home now.  I promised her that I would make her some incense...

• Memory foam Sock Monkey Slippers (from Target) are apparently "gangsta."
• can I just say "ARRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" ah, much better
• I had the worst cereal I have ever eaten this morning.  It tasted buttery and sweet and sour, it was in a word disgusting.
• So I usually do my locks myself.  Its a long and arduous task, but I'm always happy with the results when I'm done.  The worse thing that happens when I do it, is that I think my curls are too tight, or something else trivial.  The same can't be said for when someone else does it.  

1. There was the African Hair Braiding place where I used to have to wash it first (if I wanted it really clean) and bring all of my own supplies.  And forget asking them to style them.  And I usually would have to tell the woman not to use so much product in my hair.
2. Then there was the professional loctician.  She was right near my house, and not too expensive.  Sistah can really do hair, but she has no customer service skills or personality at all as far as I can tell.  I went twice.  Both times it was just me and her in the shop and she said about 20 words to me.  The first time, I kept trying to ask questions, one word answers.  I'm not asking for your life story, but if we have to sit here together for 2 and a half hours, the least you could do is turn on some fucking music or talk to me!    The second time I wore my ipod and brought a book.  Yeah my hair looked nice, but I always left there feeling uncomfortable, like she really didn't want my business.
   
3. So now I found a new place.  I know I'm just being completely and utterly lazy, since I'm home all day it's not like I couldn't do it myself.  But I kind of want to get out of the house.  So I walked over there the other morning, and they weren't open.  I think that's a sign that I should get off of my ass and do it myself.  No curls this time though, they take too fucking long to do.
4. Speaking of hair, but almost completely unrelated (like something in this post was related) you know I really can't cornrow.  Lately Mommy has been making me practice on her, talkinbout what if I have little girls.  But PYT has braids and asked me if I could do his hair, I was like, "Uh..."

• I was going to say that I was verrrry goood last month in terms of not shopping.  But thats not entirely true, so I was going to amend it to say that I didn't buy any clothes last month.  But thats not true either...

1. I got my rose gold and black diamond ring.  To say I love it would be an understatement.  I also have to learn to stop staring at it like an idjeet, but I'm fascinated that something sooo black could be sooo sparkly
2. And I got a pair of high top Coach sneakers that I could not resist.  The look like Chucks (which I also love) and they are all black but they fold over to a leopard print (real genuine illegal leopard - sorry, the Artist used to say this to me all the time)
3. I got the Coach Chucks when I was looking for a pair of black pumps.  Which I realized that I didn't have when I was cleaning out my closet.  I got a fairly standard pair from MaxStudio with a rounded toe, but they have really great toe cleavage.  
4. And I got a dress, hammered silk off the shoulder BCBG.  But I'm not sure if its for me or for my goddaughter (MonkeyGirl.)  She has a formal event coming up next month and I saw the dress and kind of thought of her, even though I already gave her a dress.  But I was also thinking of me a little, since we wear the same size.  Can I just take a moment to say that I'm really kind of pissed and proud of that!?!  I mean what the fuck the kid used to fit on my lap, her whole freaking body used to fit on my lap!  And now the kid can borrow my clothes AND shoes! So anyway, the dress came (I got it from my favorite BCBG seller on ebay) and welll, I tried it on.  I really have no where to wear it, but it looks great, and I'm kind of hoping that she won't like it.  that is a really fucked up thought
5. I also got some lingerie from Victoria's Secret, they're having a clearance sale.  I haven't worn any of it yet though

• Speaking of the Artist, he is the worst joke teller ever!  But he always manages to make you laugh, just not at the joke he's telling.  So, he calls me up and is like "Hey Troubsy, what do you call cheese, that's not your cheese?" and he's cracking up while he's asking me.  I can hear Hautechick in the background saying, "Nooooo Artsy!" and I'm like, "I don't know Artso (*ahahahaha I dont know Artso! that rhymes) stolen cheese?"  And he's all, "Nnooooooooooo! (giggle giggle guffaw guffaw) Nacho cheese!" and then falls into a fit of hysterics.  Hautechick picks up the phone and says "He told that sooo wrong!  He was supposed to say, what do you call cheese that doesn't belong to you!  He's soo silly."  (she said it in that gushy "aww I love him" kind of way)
• This post is just a lame attempt by me to put off doing my hair as long as possible.  Thank you for playing along!  If you don't hear from me in awhile, no, I'm not being my usual flaking self.  I'm probably just tangled up in my hair.  Wish me luck, maybe I'll take a picture when I'm done

Tagged...

Ok, so hopefully I'm fully back on my grind.  That sinus shit is a bitch!  I used to get really bad sinus infections every spring, but not so much since I had my wisdom teeth pulled.  Anyway, I'm feeling better so its time to take care of some bidness...

The first link has to be about family - Sleep Talkers - a strange family quirk

The second link has to be about friends - Slick! -my homeboy who I really need to call

The third link has to be about myself - In a Little Cabin - started about my insomnia ended up about the Levian Cult Camp I went to (re: levian - I was in the Dominican Republic with my sisty, we were on this beach and this Dominican guy comes up to us and tries to pick us up.  "Oh! You are sisters, good!  I hoped you were not levians, levians are no fun!"  at least not to beach hustlers)

The fourth link has to be about something I love - Mr. Pooper of course!

And the fifth link cried all the way wee wee home!  He's a bit of a punk ass...

(I'm copping out on the tagging thing cause you guys mostly already did this!)

Sickly...

So I started feeling kinda funky on Sunday, a slight tickle in my throat.  By Monday it was a full blown sore throat.  I started taking Yarrow, which I think helped to stop it from turning into the flu, but I was congested and had a headache all week.  I got a call on Tuesday for an interview and scheduled it for today, Friday, hoping I would be up to top speed.  Of fucking course, today would be the day that I lost my fucking voice!  Not all day mind you, just the 4 hours that it took me to get to the city, do the interview and get home.  I made a point to let them know that I am not usually so softly spoken.  Anyway, I missed you all bunches and I'll make sure to check all my peoples blogs on tomorrow.  And despite being an invalid (or maybe because) I said and heard alot of interesting things this week.  Here's a couple to keep all 14 of you entertained...

Trouble to Mommy:  So did Nana (my gramma) make pork chops for you before she was Jewish? 

(I was going to explain this in the tagged post, then I read the rules!  So, my Nana was married three times.  Her last husband was Jewish, not an Israelite a black Jew, and she converted.  My Uncle was actually raised Jewish but he converted to Islam when he got locked up. (that makes me giggle! and it should not be funny, but I can't help it!)  Before that she was also attended a Catholic church and an AME -African Methodist Episcopal.)

Trouble to Hautechick:  Hey, can you ask the Artist if I can come over and use his colored pencils, I got some new coloring books 

(yes I'm dead serious, but they are adult coloring books, one is Mystical Mandalas, one is Erte designs, and the other is decorative tiles)

Mommy to Trouble on my latest purchase a rose gold and black diamond ring:  Ooooooo, it looks too small for you and look at that it fits on my pinky, you should give it to me for my birthday! 

(admittedly she'll be 60 this year, but her birthday isn't until September and I'd like to point out that she told me not to buy it.  (Maybe cause I dont have a job?) I did get it back though, its gorgeous! I think I found my new favorite stone, and black is supposed to absorb the negative energy around you...)

PYT to Trouble (we were kinda on the outs but not really more on that later): You soo don't sound like you grew up in Bed- Stuy, say totally or dude or something....

Trouble to PYT: You're lucky your cute or you would've gotten popped in the mouth for that shit

PYT to Trouble (he was getting his ass kicked at Monopoly handing me two singles):  I always pay the strippers with ones. 

(it sounds fucked up but it was funny when he said it and even funnier when I said the following...)

Trouble to PYT (paying him his rent, I dropped the singles on the floor and said):  Yesssss darling now pick them up slow for Mama

And can I just say if I haven't said it before that I love Snoop Dogg!  Ego Trippin  did not disappoint but I'm renaming "SD is Out" to Oooo Weee.  Thing I can't stop saying "Stacks in my jeans, Phantom up in my garage.  My pockets look like ReRun your pockets look like Rog"

Some Shit

No, no more poop tales.

• from time to time, Hautechick and I will end up in hysterical laughter when talking to one another on the phone.  Most recently, she said something about how I always got along with the Artist and that I need to find her a brother in law that she gets along with too.  That lead me to saying that, no, actually I didn't always get along with the Artist, he used to get on my last nerve.  It was Hautechicks fault, she used to tell him all of these embarrassing stories about me, usually things that I did as a child, and he would tease me.   I hated it.  So Hautechick asked me what happened that got him to stop teasing me.  And for a second I couldn't remember.  Then it hit me, it was the time I was hanging out with the two of them (Hautechick, Mommy, and I all still lived together then) and we were inebriated, to say the least, and the Artist went upstairs to use the bathroom and passed out.  He hit the floor so hard that we heard it downstairs.  My mom ended up calling Hautey to come check on him and she found him on the floor with his pants (and underwear) around his ankles.  Just typing about it makes me incredibly giggly.  
• So I think it was yesterday that I got this email announcing $8 fares on a certain airline.  Then today on the news I hear that same airline has been under investigation by the FAA for flying planes that have not been inspected.  
• My god daughter, Monkey Girl, had another recital tonight.  I love that child but can I just say shit, damn, motherfucking 3 hour program, including a got damned dance piece that I saw last time, a whole bunch of teachers on stage so called modeling, and Monkey Girl was only in the last 5 minutes of the damned thing!  I swear...
• Speaking of the recital, I heard about it from Monkey Girl's step family, Step Grandma called me and asked me to get her a leotard and for my help in finding a dress for a formal event coming up in April.  But thats not the point.  The point is, I walk in start looking around for familiar faces and who should wave and quietly call my name, SuperSlag.  Don't choke someone out one time and they think yall cool again.  Buuuut, she had the baby with her and oh does she know how I am a sucker for baby girls.  Actually, its the clothes shopping that I love.  I swear Monkey Girl was dressed to the nines when she was a wee one, and the new one reminds me alot of her.  She's so tiny.  So I sat, behind not next to her, I still don't trust her with my back.  Her and WackThug (baby daddy) actually drove me home.  
• Cousin T's Mom is in the hospital, I'm gonna send her some flowers tomorrow.  She's in my thoughts...
• I had a discussion with Mommy about me moving out of state.  But that lasted just until she told me that I couldn't take Duke with me.  Any time something needs to be cleaned because of him, he's my dog, which is 98% of the time.  Of course he would become her dog on this issue.
• This is kinda wussy but, I can't leave Duke.  He's getting old, I dont know how much time I have left with him, and I'd really be mad at myself if I missed out on it
• My mom has one of those KitchenAid Stand Mixers (how gorgeous is this dark purple one?) my dad brought it for her as a gift.  That means its really old (if you haven't been following along, my dad died when I was 8) and kind of precious to her.  That mixer has made plenty of delectable treats so I've always loved it, but I've also always shied away from using it.  That has soooo changed.  One of my favorite things to make is pizza with homemade dough.  That mixer cut my prep time down by so much and made everything sooo easy.  I've fallen in love with it.  I usually only make pizza about 4 times a year, cause the dough is such a bitch to make.  I made it twice in the last two weeks.  The one with wine soaked mushrooms was reallllly gewd.
• Someone set off a small explosive at the Military Recruiting Station in Times Square early this morning.  Its the third incident in which a man on a bike has set off a small explosive device in the early hours of the morning in NYC  since 1998 (I think it was 98)  No one was hurt.
• I made a bouquet of balloon tulips for Monkey Girl...

Speaking of poop...

When I was a sophmore in high school, Hautechick was a freshman in college. Since she spent high school locked up at an all girls boarding school, she decided to go to college in NYC and live at home to save some dough. I wanted to kill her for that decision. The main reason was because of our bathroom situation. Three women (well I was a young woman at the time) and one freaking bathroom. Mommy and I had pretty much worked out how to not inconvenience each other when here comes Ms. Stink Booty.

Here would be my typical morning routine in high school; Wake up and wait for Mommy to finish in the bathroom, use the toilet, brush my teeth, start the shower (it was an old house, took awhile for the water to get hot), and as soon as I put both feet in the tub, there would be a knock on the door. "Troub let me in, I have to go to the bathroom!"

The first couple of times I felt sorry for her and let her in. Each and everytime, I wouldn't be able to smell anything for the next 2 hours! I have no idea what the hell she was eating in those days, but boy did my nose sure suffer. Soo, I took to not letting her in. That worked a couple of times, then she decided to get Mommy involved, "Mommy! Trouble won't let me in the bathroom and I reallllllly have to go!" Of course I had to let her in, but usually by this time I would be done with my shower (I think I got it down to about 5 minutes to soap up and rinse off) and just lotion up in my room.

It wasn't until my junior year that I decided to get revenge. I would sneak downstairs to Hautechick's room while Mommy was in the shower. Then I would either sneak into her closet and steal her clothes/shoes/sneakers/bags/etc. or if I knew she got in really late the night before I would just ask her. When she would mumble something back (I told you, I come from a a family of sleep talkers. Just the other night Mommy asked me out of nowhere, "Does it have a finished basement?" She must have been dreaming about her vacation home.) I would take that as a yes and boogie. The clothes were cool and all, but they still didn't make up for all of the singed nose hairs.

Til this day, whenever Hautechick comes over, she always wants to use my bathroom. Doesn't matter that Mommy's apartment has one and a half baths, she still wants to use mine. And if I tell her no, Mommy says, "Oh stop being mean and let your sister use your bathroom!" (I notice that Duke always vacates the premises whenever she gets to pooping)

Endnote: This is kinda gross, but the reason this post popped into my head is cause Hautechick recently told me that she tried that new pro biotic yogurt. You know the one that as Tina Fey put it, makes you poop. Wellll, she sooo did not need to try that. On top of being highly highly regular, she's also a little lactose intolerant. All I have to say is that I feel really sorry that her husband and her co-workers had to go through that genius experiment with her. To them I gift some frankincense, myrrh, and some of that air displacing stuff...

SuperSlag Update

I actually spent about 2 hours with my worthless cousin yesterday. Cousin T was there to make sure she didn't say something she might regret, and that I didn't choke the shit out of her on gp. I also finally got to meet her new daughter. She's looks a lot like her older sister did when she was that age. But she's having problems pooping. Usually I dont talk about baby poop but I'm putting it out there cause child is not at all happy.

Seems that the formula that she's on (I'm all for breast feeding!) has a lot of iron in it. Plus something else that she takes has a lot of iron in it, so shes all backed up. Someone (ghetto) suggested that she put some soap up the baby's butt, but that just seems wrong to me on sooo many levels. I mean, soap kinda burns doesn't it? There's got to be something a little more natural and less burny than soapy for the little monkey, right? So any suggestions on how to get a backed up baby to poop?

The reason that SuperSlag and I were together was to go to her sons basketball game. He was supposed to have 2 games yesterday, one at 12 and another at 2. We get there at 2 and SS dont know where the game is going to be at. We finally get in touch with SuperSlags ex and he tells us the games, both of them, are already over. Way to keep track asshat! I mean I know you have the baby and all, but you can't write the information down on a calender or someshit? What the fuck. And stop letting people put soap up your babies butt! Sheesh!