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...

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.

All we do is play in the sheets...

If you haven't figured it out by now, I really like sex.  I'm not obsessed by any stretch of the imagination - I've gone over a year without having sex on more than one occasion.  But I do really really really like sex.  With the right person, its a phenomenal experience.  Sheeeet, with the wrong person it can be a phenomenal experience!

I can't say that I have a favorite position or style, they all appeal to me.  The control given when he lets me ride on top.  Knowing that his eyes are on me, his hands on my hips.  Or when he rises to meet me, lip to lip breathe mingling.  The power of a forceful thrust.  The skill of a slow silken glide.  Pulling my locks or tenderly stroking skin.  And oh how I crave my next little death.  To shatter and know that his arms are the only thing keeping me from completely coming apart.  The surrender and the conquest.  It all appeals to me.

But I am sooo much more that what it between my legs.  And no man should ever think that a little slap and tickle is going to be enough to keep me slapping and tickling.  I cannot even begin to fathom why a man would think that a woman would be ok with him saying, "Hey baby, I'm going to this party on Saturday (wait for it) and I was wondering if I could stop by your place on my way home?"  Um, let me think about it. Uh, FUCK NO!  No, it wasn't PYT that said that to me, that's how Brownie got moldy.

While I am spoiled to a certain extent, I don't expect a man to bankrupt himself in order to please me.  For example, there was the dude that was unemployed that insisted on taking me out to very expensive dinners on his Amex card.  It put a bad taste in my mouth.  I took him out to a nice dinner, my treat, and ended it.  On the opposite end was the dude that insisted on only taking me to diners.  I actually love diners, but not the straight up disgusting places that he tried to get me to eat.  

Or how about the dudes that are afraid of a little blood?  I'm not asking you to eat me out on a bloody Monday or anything even closely related, but is it necessary to disappear like I've got the plague?  It's a little blood, bitch, it's not gonna kill me and it sure as fuck isn't going to kill you.  And that, "Well your mouth still works" bullshit just ain't cool.  I'm already fucking emotional and you want to be an ass?!  Real quick way to ensure that you never get a favor while I'm on the rag.

That brings me to PYT.  I can't figure the man out for shit.  He stands me up.  He'll always call and apologize the next day.  But it is what is.  Twice, then I stopped calling, stopped texting actually.  I just let it go.  But he didn't.  He called, then he texted and he comes over and plays Monopoly with me (and gets his ass kicked) knowing he's not gonna get any.  No pressure to impress him with my brain.  Just chilled and got his ass kicked.  He even actually enjoyed my smart ass mouth.  Then you know what he does...

Curses!

I seem to be cursed with people who think that it is okay to pop back into my life after 4, 5 or 6 years of abscence.

There is the former co-worker. We haven't worked together since 1998, but when I first moved into the house, she used to live around the corner. I would see her from time to time with her daughter. We even exchanged numbers becuase there was a question that she wanted to ask me about CDCs (Community Development Corporations.) She calls to ask me the question, then when I call her back to give her the answer, no response. (I should point out that I am not one of those people who will leave the information on a voicemail, either you speak to me or no go.) Skip ahead 5 years and why is this woman calling my mothers line looking for me (I'm not listed.) We haven't spoken in 5 years and you think its cool to call my Mom and ask her to give you my number? Like that was really going to happen.

The old, "Oh, we're old friends, I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you gave me her number" ploy might work somewhere else, but not with the Mother of Snark. "Weelllll, her number hasn't changed in over 7 years so if you had it once, you still have it. I don't feel comfortable giving out her number, but if you'd like to leave yours, I'll gladly pass it along." Not to mention chick lives in North Carolina now. I really dont see the point in spending money on long distance to speak to someone that I haven't thought about in 4 years. Specially not after the last time we spoke.

I think I may have mentioned the former high school buddy that moved to South Africa during college. I sent her emails, no response. Hell I even ran into people that saw her while she was in NYC visiting. You didn't want to see me then, why the fuck are you calling me now?!? It been at least 10 years, what the hell could we possibly have to say to one another?

My godparents are the major fuck ups. (Not to be confused with my God Mother in Cali) They decided to move to Atlanta when I was a junior in High School. Got maybe one letter and have seen them maybe once since then. These people have the nerve to call my Mom to let her know how dissappointed they are that I didn't keep in touch. What the fuck! You were the adults in the situation, why was it my responsibility to keep in touch? And why wait fucking 12 years to bring that shit up. Fuck off. No seriously, I know one of you was my dad's best friend, but I'm pretty sure he would tell you to fuck off too!

Jump on it in the morning and ride it til the night...

...wanna give you real jewelry so when it hits the light, bitches will momentarily lose their sight.  She said, "I know what boys like, I know what they want, they want to sex me, they think I'm sexy.  I know what boys like, boys like me."

Just a little trip back in hip hop time when I actually liked Jay-Z.  This is going to be another one of those random post that I do from time to time.  Bear with me...

 I recently realized that I've never slept with more than one man at a time.  Wait, I'm not sure how you took that, but what I mean is that if I'm sleeping with one man, I don't sleep with anyone else.  I guess you would say that I'm sexually exclusive.  I just couldn't see myself going back and forth between men.  Twins on the same night at the same time, now thats another dirtier story.  I don't expect my lovahs to be sexually exclusive, but I do expect them to be discreet and most importantly clean.  Dont you ever fucking come to my house smelling like some other woman or just as bad, you own funky ass.

I thought I lost my The Incredibles DVD.  I love that movie!  Shit, who am I kidding I love Pixar almost as much as I love Jim Henson and thats saying alot if you know how I feel about the Muppets.  Speaking of the Muppets, I just got The Muppets Take Manhattan on dvd!  How cool is that!  (ok maybe not that cool to you, but cool as shit to me! fuck you very much if you think I'm a dork.  But I'm pretty sure dorks don't have head game like I do...)

Speaking of head game (is it wrong to segue from Muppets to Blowjobs?) can I just say as a woman, that I actually do quite enjoy the power of giving a blowjob.  The feel of having something so vulnerable yet so hard in the palm of my hand.  Doing just the right thing to make him hiss and that extra swirl of the tongue that will having him calling out.  If you're a woman and you're thinking that its an act of submission, than sweetie, you really haven't been doing it right.  And to the maybe 3 straight guys that may be reading this, if you learned to really enjoy eating the puss, (that is if you already don't) you'd probably get a hell of a different reaction than if you just eat it cause you think its what she wants you to do it.  If you don't enjoy it, chances are you're partner won't enjoy it either.

Sorry I haven't been around the blog world lately, I've been off playing with a boy.  Well at least part of the time.  I've also been cleaning this sty I call an apartment, fine tuning my resume (I should start sending it out by Wednesday) and trying to groom Duke.  It took me about 4 hours just to give him a really good brushing.  Then I spent another hour using the undercoat rake.  Then I needed a break so the next day I got started with the clippers, and we were doing pretty good until I tried to cut him back left leg.  He didn't want me on that side.  So I was pretty tired and said I would try the next day.  But then it snowed.  And since we live on the corner and own the lot next door I had to shovel all of that shit and I think I pulled something.  So the haircut is incomplete.  He looks alot better, but my back is fucking killing me from the snow shoveling.  Then it had the fucking nerve to rain the next day and most of that fuck ass snow disappeared and today it was in the 60s!?!  Fucking weetodd weather, I blame it on the industrial revolution.  Fucked up weather, cancer and pollution.  What a great fucking time in history that was...

Speaking of the Superbowl...

Did you notice that the lead ref was African American?  Can you fucking believe that in the year 2008, this is the first time that an African American has been the lead ref at the Superbowl?!?  Some fucking progress...

KoC - King of Crap

The King of Crap, cockblocker extraordinaire, was a guy that I used to see.  We met through mutual friends when I was about 22, it didn't work and he would put his bid in just about everytime we saw each other.  I was hesitant to start seeing him again because he's a bitch when it comes to running his mouth.  He once told one of my associates (not a close friend by any means) that I was amazing in bed.  Which lead to about a year and half of all the women that I hung out with speculating about how many men I had been with and odd questions at random times like, "when did you lose your virginity?"  "ever been with two men?"  "ever had sex with a woman?"  all of which were met with a why, their usual response being "Oh I was just curious."  Some women were stupid enough to follow that up with, "well?" to which they got a cocked eyebrow, a partial sneer and a "none of your fucking business."

But I figured that we had both not only gotten older, but that we had both matured.  I was really wrong about that.  We were together about 3 months last year before I made his ringer silent.  But it appears that he is making another play.  It started about two weeks ago when I got a call from a number that looked kind of familiar but I couldn't place.  I still haven't put my old contacts into my new cell phone.  

"Good Afternoon"

"Hey, Happy New Year"

"Thanks, who's this?"

"I'm afraid if I tell you, you'll hang up."

"Who is this?"

"King of Crap"

"Well you had that one right." CLICK!

Later that day I got a text message "Aren't you ever going to forgive me?  Damn your mean"  Oh, yeah insulting me has always been such a turn on for me, idjeet.  To KoC, if I'm angry, the answer is to leave me alone and let me get over or forget that I was angry.  I feel for it once, when I forgot why I stopped seeing him the first time (I still dont really remember), and I guess he figures that I'll go for it again.  There have been a couple of phone calls that I didn't answer in the following weeks.  But last night, he called me at 1 in the morning!  Did he think he might be able to finaggle some ass?  Was he trying to cockblock in case I had someone else over?  What the fuck was he thinking?  I WILL NOT let my curiousity get the better of me, and I can't even engage in the "stop fucking calling me!" convo.

KoC is the type of man who thinks that a woman doesn't care for him if she doesn't raise her voice at least once a week.  So I can't even go there without it giving him hope.  Besides, I got no time to be wasting yelling at a grown man.  When we last broke up, it was because he not only stood me up on Friday, but he didn't even call me until Sunday.  His excuse "Oh well I went out after work with some co-workers and I got drunk and I totalled my car and I forgot I was supposed to take you out.  My back really hurts can I come over so you can rub it?"  I'll admit, I lost it.  I called him all kinds of fuckers and shits and bitches.  I yelled, I screamed, I told him 12 different ways that I could not be involved with a man who was soo irresponsible and all that got through to him was that I really must care about him cause he finally got me to yell at him.  Fucktard.

Run Away...

I can freely admit that I have a problem with commitment.  Its not that it scares me, just that I like to take my time before I commit to someone.  There is nothing that will send me packing quicker than a man who makes more of the things that I do than is necessary.  

Need an example?  Let's start with Big Mr. Sad.  Our first date was, interesting to say the least.  Mostly because my entire immediate family was there for a portion of it.  (We went to one of the Artist gallery openings)  I tried to impress upon him that while this was a first for me, a man meeting my entire immediate family in one sitting, but that he shouldn't make a big deal out of it.  I told him that there was no pressure.  Not long after that, came The Conversation.  "Sooooo, are you seeing anyone else?"  "No not currently, how about you?" "Welllll, no one as special as you are..."  My bullshit meter went off, loudly, and for several reasons.

1. I'm the newest chick, we've only been on one date, you don't know I'm special yet.  There is no doubt in my mind that I am, special that is, but I haven't even put on my A game yet.
2. I highly suspect that he was telling me what he thought I wanted to hear.  Just a little hint about me, when it comes to the choice between some meaningless fluff designed to please the ears and the cold hard facts, I'm more comfortable with the cold hard facts.  Compliments are one thing, bullshit is a whole nother other
3. Didn't you hear the "not currently" that I slipped in?  That was a clear indication that I'm not going to commit myself to you after one date and wild ride

It wasn't soon after the Conversation that I started to pull back.  Another ex of mine makes for a good example too.  The King of Crap (cockblocker extraordinaire - more on that another time.)  Last summer, when we were still seeing each other, he was at my house and Mommy was cooking.  She called me upstairs and asked if I was hungry and if I wanted to feed him too.  I was hungry and feeling kinda mellow so I said yes to both.  Mommy was about to set the table when I asked if she would mind if we ate after her. "I don't want him to read anything more into this than there is, me being polite and not kicking him out or eating in front of his face."  Ok, Mommy ate then KoC and I ate.

Still during the last convo we had, he's gonna say, "You can't mean that you don't want to see me anymore.  What we have is special, you're Mom cooked for me and you're just going to let me go?!"  Thats about the time that I hung up the phone...

Lil Sister Blues

I had a pretty craptastic weekend.  It started off ok, with massages with Hautechick on Thursday, but went straight to hell after that.  Major highlights include me being treated like a 12 year old by my sister in front of all of her friends and telling Big Mr. Bad to chill the fuck out.

Hautechick had a party on Friday night at this bar on the Lower East Side.  She invited all of her friends and told them to be at the bar at 8pm.  Why so early, I have no fucking clue.  So I head over to her and the Artist's house, figuring I'll catch a ride into the city.  And I wanted to give Hautechick her prezzies.  I should point out at this juncture, that I have yet to receive a birthday gift from my sister.  Didn't matter.  I found an adorable Coach skull keychain (25% off thank you!) and some Marc Jacobs black wool shorts (can't go wrong with something black and Marc Jacobs if you're looking for a gift for Hautechick)  She loves everything, but she's no where near ready to go.  The Artist ask if I would mind leaving with him, cause if I stay he fears Hautechick is going to take even more time to get ready.

The Artist tells me that he's also giving a ride to one of his friends.  I met him before, he's kinda slow and still hasn't figured out that I have locks and Hautechick has an Afro, and is darker than me, and is taller than me and has bigger boobs than me.  So of course he walks up with his date and says "Happy Birthday!"  "Damn it!  Thats the second time, I'm Trouble, the Artist is married to my sister, Hautechick!"  Strong reaction maybe, but that shit irks the hell outta me.

So we all pile into the Artist's pickup - its a crew cab, but just barely - and head to the City.  Arrive at the spot and there are some knifed up chicks sitting at our table.  No problem management removes them and we sit.  Couple of minutes later here comes one of Hautechicks friends, she does the double take then realizes that I'm not Hautechick.  Three more of her friends come in and do the same damn thing.  Now its like 9, still no Hautechick.  

I'm making small talk, drinking and eating.  Having fun, then in comes my sister.  One of her friends calls to me, "Hey Trouble, are you going to the strip club later?"  Ripeshit interjects, "Oh no!  My little sister is not invited to come."  I dont know what the hell they are talking about, but its pissing me off.  I find out later that the afterparty is supposed to be at one of the most well known strip clubs in the NYC area.  Well at least its well known in hip-hop circles.  And I'm not invited apparently because I'm her "little sister."  Uh, bitch youre only like 3 years older than me.  GET OVER YOURSELF!

The kicker is when everybody bails on her except for one of her friends and the Artist.  The one friend who is going is asking me to come with and Ripeshit says, "I'm putting little sister in a cab and sending her home to Mommy.  She can't go."  Ok fine bitch, I'm used to you pulling that big sister bullshit when its convenient.  Funny how it never comes up when you're asking me to buy you some designer shit or to borrow my clothes.  So I said something along the lines of I'm used to Ripeshit being an ass to me and made her pay for my cab fare.  The Artist was going to give me the money, but I made Ripeshit give it to me.  Petty, yes, but it made me feel better.  It also made me feel better when I found out today that Hautechicks friend that went with her, fell asleep in the car so they just headed home...

Bullshit and Fuckery

If anyone has a problem with me, fucking say that shit in the comments and stop beating around the fucking bush.  Grow the fuck up people!  

So let me get this straight.  I'm not allowed to come to the defense of people I like?!?

Check your paycheck...

... seriously, don't take for granted that they got your shit right.  Even if you have direct deposit.  

So I decided to not go online of Friday until I finished my resume.  It seems that every time I went online to look to research something, I ended up on TypHo Blvd. (if you don't know what I'm talking about, sucks to be you!  I kid, kinda)  laughing at some crazy shit or another.  So I said no internet until I finished my revisions.  Woke up on Friday, ready to rock, check the mail, and there's my paycheck, crammed into the mail slot.  My post office is constantly pissing me off with shit like that, one of the mailmen is good, but the rest seem to be a bunch of lazy fucks.  So I'm still muttering to myself when I unwrinkle and open up the bitch and I notice something hinky.  

My fucking check is over $400 short!  What the fuck!  I pull out some old pay stubs and see what the problem is.  My state and fed are at almost %50.  So I call OfficeManager.

Troub: Hey I got my check today (snarky voiced cause she said she mailed the bitch on Tues, but it was postmarked for Wed.) and my taxes are wrong.

OfficeManager: What do you mean your taxes are wrong? (is that a slight attitude I detect?)

Troub:  My taxes are wrong.  They are taking about $500 more dollars out of my check.

OfficeManager:  Of course they're taking more, your taxes are supposed to go up every year Trouble.

At this point, I'm confused as fuck by her logic, so I tell her that I will do a little research and call her back.  Now usually, I'm a kick ass researcher, like Duke with a fucking bone, I don't let shit go.  By now your talking about my money, so its a whole nother ball game, if you feel me.  I broke my rule and went online.  Found this amazing calculator that lets you figure out how much money is supposed to be taken out in taxes from your paycheck based on your number of deductions and the state that you live in.  Figured out that I was right, they were taking almost $500 extra, which meant that I was getting taxed at about %47 percent or some shit.  Then I called the IRS.

Spoke to this very nice woman who said, "I don't think anyone has ever asked me how to figure out if they were being taxed the right amount on their paycheck."  She then pointed out that even if my taxes were to go up in 2008, the check was for the last three weeks in December.  I was too mad to realize that.  She also sent me to the pertinent pages of the tax code regulation that showed that I was being taxed too much.  I printed them out along with the calculations from the payroll calculator, and called back OfficeManager.

"Well, I have nothing to do with how much they decide to take out of your check in taxes.  If you think its wrong, why don't you call the people who process our paychecks and see if they can give you an answer you'll accept."  So thats just what I did.  Of course I got the fucktards voicemail.  I left a very professionally politely pissed message explaining the situation and asking him to get back to me on my cell phone.  Then I went and deposited the check (after scanning it onto my computer, along with a copy of the envelope showing the postmark date), and went to get a manicure and a pedicure.  I needed to calm the fuck down and that helped.

I'm getting back into the car to come home and notice I have a voicemail, the missed call log indicates its OfficeManager.  "Trouble, call me back as soon as you get this"  So I do, "Oh Trouble, you saved everyones ass! (I kid you not, I'm not exaggerating) You're the only one who caught the mistake! Well Bambi caught it but she didn't follow through..."  Come to find out, when I called the processor, he checked his records and realized that in updating our records for the new year (switching from getting paid every 4 weeks to every 2 weeks) he miscalculated everyones taxes.  And only two people in the entire company noticed.  One was too stooopid to follow up on something that she thought was wrong.  And the other (me) didn't even get her check until a full week after everyone else!

WHAT THE FUCK!  People don't check their checks?!?  When I told Hautechick about it, she admitted that she rarely if ever checks to see if the amount of her direct deposit is correct.  Don't take that shit for granted, cause next thing you know the guvment will have an extra $500 of your money, and you'll be none the wiser.  Shit, you know how much shopping damage I could do with $500?!? 

Arrrrgh!

• some of you may have noticed that I've been posting at strange times, like say 4 in the morning.  yeah about that, I haven't been into the office in about 4 weeks or so.  Still getting paid, just not going in.  Don't really feel like explaining further cause its kinda complicated and pisses me off to a certain extent.  Don't worry everything is A-OK!
• I'm trying to redo my fucking resume.  I haven't updated that shit in 7 years and they stuff that I've been doing for the last seven years is enough to fill a 20 page report.  Can't I just say, "I've done it all, do it well, and look fucking fabulous doing it!  Hire my ass and pay me lots of money so that I can buy a TypHo estate on Anguilla!"
• I'm having trouble (*tee hee) remembering what day it is, and the fucking crazy ass time stamp on The TypHo Network is not helping in the least!

I hate old ladies...

...not all of them.  But the ones who think that having some wrinkles and grey hair entitles them to speak to people any old way.  Sorry old bitch, my respect is earned, but you knew that didn't you?

So last night should have been a wonderful evening, I took Mommy to go see ALVIN AILEY!!!!  and you know how I feel about Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater. (NYC residents - if you were unable to get tickets to this years City Center performances, they will performing at BAM in June)  Plus it was a night of all new works, including Firebird, which was first.  In this staging, the lead role of the firebird was danced by a male, Clifton Brown.  And oh boy did his ass and thighs make me forget where the hell I was!  Then the other firebird comes out, and boy was he ever the perfect compliment to Mr. Browns light and lovely looks.  Jamar Roberts (I think) is a luscious piece of chocolaty man candy, yes indeed.  We also saw Unfold, which while short was phenomenal!  I think that was my favorite piece of the night.  It was danced my Linda Celeste Sims (who is one of the more recognizable faces of Ailey, she appears in a number of their promotional materials and is really quite beautiful, then she starts dancing and it becomes impossible to take your eyes off of her) and Clifton Brown, Mr. Firebird.

There were two other pieces, The Groove to Nobody's Business and Saddle Up, both were being preformed for the first time this year.  They weren't bad, but I think I prefer the older choreography.  They seems to beheading more towards a modern dance flavor and I'm hesitant to like it since one of the things that I find so mesmerizing about AAADT is their ballet skills.  The leg extensions, the beautifully pointed toe, all of that seemed lacking in The Groove.  Saddle Up was better, but Mommy didn't get it.  Part of the reason that I like Saddle Up is that they used the music of Yo Yo Ma and I dig him.

Now about the old ladies.  If you've ever been to the theater, you know that if you arrive late, they usually make you wait and watch on a closed circuit tv until intermission.  Well thats what happened to the 6 old ladies that were sitting next to and behind me.  And of course I would get stuck sitting next to and in front of the most annoying old biddies in the bunch.  The one next to me, comes in and sits down and decides that I'm in her seat.  I know its not because not only do I know what seats I bought (I looked at the seating chart with the ticket agent when I got them) but we were also seated by an usher, and I'm pretty sure she would know.  Also I heard one of the other women say, "we have the three on the end in both of these rows."  So when she looks at me and says, "You're in my seat!  I'm not going to ask you to move, yet"  I looked at her like, bitch you better not ask me to do shit but excuse your rude attitude!  So the next piece starts and the one behind me, who of course has the most annoying voice you ever heard, decided now is the time to complain about having to wait outside during the first piece.    And my seat mate decides to continue talking about how I'm in her seat. 

Luckily it was a short piece and they shut the fuck up when just about everyone in the section around them cleared their throats as a subtle hint to "SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU OLD BAG!"  Oh how I wanted to say that last night.  So its a brief pause in the show and the old bitch next to me finally realizes that I'm not 19 like she first assumed, and she changes her tone.  "I'm pretty sure that she's in my seat and I can't see anything from here, but I don't want to cause any trouble."  So now she's gonna play the poor old woman card.  Sorry bitch not buying it, and neither for that matter is Mommy.  

"What the hell is she going on about now.  Like it wasn't bad enough that they were talking all during the beginning of the piece.  If you were in her seat, don't you think the usher would have asked you to move already?  Sheesh!"  "It's alright Mommy, I know what seats I bought and since she doesn't feel its necessary to address me directly, she can kiss my ass."  I dont think that I need to mention that these women were sitting right next to us so they undoubtedly heard everything Mommy and I said, just like we heard everything that they said.  All of a sudden old bitch wants to check her ticket and lo and behold, she is in the right seat.  Which of course she doesn't want to sit in anymore, she ended up going upstairs to the cheap seats by herself.  Honestly, I think she was annoying the snot out of her friends too, cause no one offered to go with her. 

Lord, please don't let me grow up to be a bitter old woman.   Please!

Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, Ben's a prick...

I've been saying that for the last two days cause I finally saw Knocked Up.  I still can't stand that Aryan nation looking broad, she just annoys the fuck outta me.  And what was so sexist about that movie?  Women nag and men are assholes, for the most part...

And they soooo should have kept the scene where Jonas is talking about Brokeback Mountain in the movie.  Thats was fucking hilarious and sooo true.  If you don't know what I'm talking about, you need to check out the deleted scenes.  "It was only the tip and I was sleeping..."

Anyway, sorry for the little hiatus, my life is nuttier than some almonds in a bowl made out of walnut shells right now.  Thats not to say that it won't happen again, cause I'm a flake like that...

One More Thing About the Fight...

So I watched the house at Bobby's cousin's house.  Now (in case u dont remember) Bobby practically grew up in Cousin T's house, and has kind of adopted them as her own.  Every once in awhile, she'll bring up something about her actual family, but for the most part I don't hear too much about them.  But I have met a couple of them and I do know most of their names.  Well, I would if my memory wasn't for shit.  So we pull up to her cousins house and Bobby's making the introductions, "...and you remember Trouble..."  "No I don't know her, hi nice to meet you."

Now I feel like an ass cause I'm pretty sure that I have in fact met her before.  Don't remember her name, but the face definitely.  No matter, I'm used to it.  Every time I used to see Bubba's ex-fiance, she would say, "Oh its nice to meet you, I've heard so much about you!"  while giving me half of a fake smile.  That happened about 4 or 5 times.  Come on bitch, I'm that chick!   You know the one in that 3 foot by 5 foot picture thats hanging in Bubba's Daddy's house?  Bubba's in it too, its from when we were in the 7th grade at some street fair with his dad.  We have a pact to destroy that picture but his dad loves it for some reason.  You know, the one that is cool with all of his boys?  That doesn't mind going to Knicks games with him (even though I think they've sucked since the 80s)?  Yeah thats me bitch.  

Anyway back to the fight.  So as I was saying, I'm used to that passive aggressive shit from weak women.  But this time, I'm writing it off as maybe she just doesn't remember me since Bobby and I are not what you would call the closest.  Shit is cool.  Everyone is watching the pre-fight, eating, drink, and poppin shit.  And the pictures come out.  "Bobby, you will never believe what I found!  Remember your birthday a couple of years ago?  I found the pictures!"  And there's Trouble in all her glory, smack dab in the middle of about 1/3 of them.  Don't remember me huh?

So, its a little later, the fights about to start and everybody is coming into the living room.  An acquaintance of mine May, and I decide to grab another beer before the fight.  Get to the kitchen and The Cousin's husband is in there, "What do yall need?"  being a good host, but there is only one bottle of beer left, the rest is in a lil mini keg.  So May (part of why I said acquaintance) grabs it and leaves me in the kitchen with the husband who is trying to help me figure out the mini keg.  Him being a "man" can't let me do it myself, which would have been quicker, and ends up breaking the tap.  He's trying to jury-rig that shit, when here comes The Cousin, "Whats going on in here?!"  Tone and face tight.  What do you think bitch, I'm in here banging your man against the fridge while your standing 4 feet away?!

We both turn, him with the keg, me with my cup and look at her like she's stoopid.  "Oh!  I want some beer!"  This little interaction just furthers my thinking that she knows exactly who I am, cause Bobby for some reason thinks that I fuck all comers.  That is sooo not the case, in fact I think I'm coming up on almost 4 months peen free.  I think she's just projecting her own shortcoming onto me, cause dude that she brought with her to the fight, and has been banging for at least 7 years is pretty suspect in my opinion.  Not to mention that he bet on Hatton, fucktard.  Then there was the dude that was married with kids, living with his mistress and also fucking Bobby.  Quite a catch.  Or how about the dude that was borrowing her car and letting other chicks use it?

I'm not gonna lie and say I never fucked a loser, but I sure don't keep them bitches around.  But the point of this post was to ask, what the fuck is up with chicks acting like they don't know who you are when they really do?  Is that supposed to throw me off my game, undermine my confidence or some shit?  Cause it just makes me want to shine a little harder to be honest.  It's funny cause I felt like getting dressed that night, and made my self tone it down.  I started to wear my black leather look legging, a black long chunky turtleneck sweater and my burgundy over the knee boots.  I ended up wearing my black J Brands, a black cashmere sweater and my patent leather boots...

Family Matters - My Buppy Cousin

I've got a cousin (yes another one) who is an ivy league grad (both undergrad and her masters).  She's a member of a pretty well known African American sorority known for the paper bag rule and high pitched noises.  And she's married to a man who is a grad of a well known Historically Black College for males.  Now, don't take her education to mean that she's not trifling.  She has two little girls who I love very dearly in part because they remind me of Hautechick and myself as children.  But sometimes I worry about those girls.

The oldest is a little bit of a snob and reverse racist.  She told a the one white girl in her ballet class that she couldn't play with her and her friends because she wasn't a minority.  Yeah, my 7 -at the time- year old cousin used the word minority.  When Hautey was a wee one, she told a little girl at the playground to tell her mother to wash her coat.  I think Mommy said Hautey was 4.  The youngest is a mini Trouble if evah there was!  She's had the "are you out of your damn mind?!" look down pact at 4 and isn't afraid to use it on one and all.  She also remind me of myself because her best friend is this adorable little white boy with red hair.  (do I need to remind you of my Bubba?)  And when her mother expressed concern at their relationship (you twit, the damn kids are in the first grade!) she told IvyLeague, "who are you to tell me who I can love?"

There are a couple of reasons that I worry about them.  First and foremost is that their mother sends them out of the house looking all kinds of wrong.  Ok, I understand that you never learned to do hair (my cornrows look like shit, but I can at least manage some two strand twist or a neat ponytail) but you make enough to have some one else do their hair.  And that means more than once a month.  And if you have a full set of Louis Vuitton luggage, why is it that you buy all of their clothes from Conway?  If you don't have Conway where you live, lets just says its cheap.  Polyester and rayon reign supreme and the construction is not what you would call study.  I used to buy toiletries from the one Downtown Brooklyn, but stopped after I saw a rat in there.  That was at least 5 or more years ago, but I think you all know how I feel about rats.  

Mommy used to help her out with the girls when their nanny quit, but IvyLeague insulted Mommy so that was the end of that.  Once she picked Eldest up from school and dropped her off at dance class.  When they get to the dance school, Mommy is helping Eldest get ready and she notices that she didn't eat her sandwich.  No wonder, it was Olive Loaf on black bread or some shit like that.  Eldest is 9, not 90.  So Mommy throws out the sandwich, their little secret, and goes to get Eldest something to eat.  She comes back with a turkey sandwich and finds Eldest is ready for class.  Leotard and tights full of holes.  Being the competent mother that she is, Mommy is embarrassed as hell.  She ask IvyLeague about it and she's all "Oh Eldest is an artist, she can't be concerned with perfect tights."  Yeah but you're her mom, shouldn't you be concerned with that shit?!

End Note - why the hell can't I ever remember that embarrassed has two r's?!?!?

Banksy's Got No Ass!

Thats right Anners, I said it, Paul Banks has got no ass! And he's not deep, I bet pink and baby blue are his favorite colors. And he might want to go see a dermatologist about that mole problem, I think I may have spotted (*HA! I said spotted!) a new one. And his girlfriend is gorgeous! AND INTERPOL SUKS!

(ok I really dont know if they suck or not, but Anners called me a dumb rexy!)

OH AND DONT THINK I FORGOT THAT YOU STARTED IT AFRO!!!! I got something for your ass too!

oh and he would look dirty even standing next to Kiki Dumbst! (ha ha I said, nevermind!) Thanks Koala Jane!

A Spoonful of Sugar

• I'm going through some shit right now. Not my usual, I don't feel well, I'm too busy to blog type shit. I'm talking life altering. I'm not really sure how I feel about it so I'm not in any mood to share. At least not yet. So forgive me if I start rambling and you aren't really sure what I'm talking about. But just know that there was no loss of life limb or livelihood. Oh and I'm not pregnant

• I'd love to become a pastry chef (I think I mentioned this last week) but the program that I want is $33,000 for the 6 month program with internships and job placement.
  
• I'm sorry I haven't been leaving comments for you guys, Snarky has become straight out Bitchy lately and I didn't want to subject you guys to that. But I have been reading up.
• I WILL NOT LET MYSELF FALL INTO A FUNK!
• I love commercials, but there are a couple out there that annoy the shit out of me... The Sandwich shop one where the dad starts whining like a brat so the wife will buy him a sandwich, and the kid misses his baseball game because of it. The Office Supply Store Holiday commercial where Santa gets snowed in and calls in the Office Supply Store for help, it shows kids getting excited because they got a stapler AND pencils and Rudolph stealing a truck. (excuse me for a moment while Tiki takes over) Uh, Santa lives in the North Pole, you really think he doesn't know how to handle snow? And what the hell does Rudolph need with a truck when he can fly? Don't even get me started on the shiteous gifts. Oh and lastly the credit card commercial where there are all these scissors on the ground - thats the stuff of nightmares for me.
  
• A couple of months ago, LadyShay pointed out this medication that had some pretty scary side effects. Well I was looking at a commercial for this drug that is supposed to be for men that have an overactive bladder. The premise being that its embarrassing to have to pee all the time. BUT one of the major side effects is loss of consciousness upon standing. So let me get this straight, taking a piss isn't manly, but passing the fuck out everytime you stand up is?
• ALVIN AILEY AMERICAN DANCE THEATER has started its new season AND THEY ARE DOING FIREBIRD! They are performing in NY until December 31st and for the rest of the stops on the tour go here

They are going to Jacksonville FL, Costa Mesa Berkeley and Davis CA, and Seattle WA. I don't see any Texas dates though...

Wow

I think I went everywhere today.  I even stopped by Swag's Pretty Black.  I was supposed to be cleaning my house but you guys distracted me.

So I'm a little pissy.  Last Friday, Mommy and I priced the Passat and I said, "Lets go tomorrow!"  and she was like no, you're off of work next week, we'll go on Monday or Tuesday.  And of course you all know today is Wednesday and I haven't regaled (is that the right word Anners?  Anners always knows the right word) you with tales of me in the new car.  Thats because when I brought it up, Mommy was like "Oh you thought we were really going this week?"  Uh yeah cause thats what you said.

And then yesterday, Mommy and I were talking about something and from my perspective, she called me irresponsible and childish.  Childish, hell yeah, irresponsible hell nah!  Uh do I need to remind you who pays the mortgage every month on time?  I don't know how to handle one thing and I'm irresponsible.  Thanks.  So this happened right before we were about to leave the house.  Mommy had to return some things from the shopping trip on Sunday and I was going to ride with her.  And I told her, I really didn't feel like riding in the car with her after she just insulted me.  I know myself and I know I'm not going to let it go and we'll end up arguing.  So she called me immature.  Here I am thinking I'm doing the right thing by walking away from an argument with my mother and she calls me immature.  Thanks ma!  And I sure as hell hope that she didn't think that calling me names would get me to go.  

So she leaves and I get an email from Hautechick.  Apparently she dropped her cell phone in a glass of water (*snicker) right after she got an text from one of our few boy cousins.  Would I mind texting him back and letting him know her phone is broken and she'll get back to him when its replaced?  Not such a large request right?  Except for when you take into account that thats pretty much what I do at work, and I'm on got damned vacation this week.  And the fact that I hate making excuses for people, BossMan included (but at least he pays me!)  If you can take the time to explain to me what exactly the person called for and what you want me to say to them, then you can pick up a fucking phone and return the fucking call!  Sorry, that shit irks me.

Then I watched Shrek the Third.  I think Justa Timberfake ruined it for me.  I can't stand that guy.  But the part that he wasn't in were good.  Bet Cam Diaz is regretting getting him that part huh?

Yeah Bitch, I'm Talking To You, The Remix

Just in case you missed it, I got this comment to the last post

Anonymous said...

Now, I think you are funny as all hell but as I read this post I couldn't help but wonder... what's the need for all the negativity? Especially towards another Beautiful, Talented, Black Woman. I'm not some crazed 13 yr. old Beyonce fan either, I'm a mid 20's sista doin' her thang & I'm secure enough in my womanhood to give another woman her props. Are you that easily intimidated? & I know everything ain't for everybody & you have the right not to like her & all that good stuff but My question to you is ... are you parched from all that hatin'?

4:36 AM

Negative, yes, I'll own that. But to be honest, I'm not exactly sunshinny happy fun land here at Snarky Black Chicks. In case you didn't notice moron, the name of the site is SNARKY black chicks, not Star Dick Riders. You like me? That's nice. You don't? What the fuck do I care?! My world view isn't going to change because someone didn't like something I said. In fact I hate it when people agree with me all the time, that shit is boring. But if you are going to come at me, come a little stronger than that please. Have a valid argument, make an interesting point, but most importantly OWN UP TO THE SHIT YOU SAY! I take you alot less seriously if you post anonymously, specially when you're mouthing off about "hating" (an overused and under defined term if ever there was one.) Let me ask you a question - Why would I be intimidated by Beyonce? Maybe you picked the wrong word, but last time I checked I wasn't up against old girl for a lead role and The Camel was not my love interest. The only place I sing is in the shower. She doesn't sign my paycheck, and I do not make my mortgage check out to the Bank of DeReon (or however you spell her crappy clothing line - and yes I said crappy because it uses synthetic materials horrendous designs and substandard manufacturing. That shit is like the Hyundai of the fashion world, bitches is always on sale.) So intimidated, mmmm not so much. What I am is inundated with her damn face and voice every got damned place I go and I'm sick of it!

Trouble said...
I dont like her thats my opinion based on what she presents to the public. Is it hate? No its my truth. I don't know her from a hole on the wall to waste that much time on "hating" someone that has no bearing whatsoever on my life Anonymous.
So just because she's "black" and successful I'm supposed to love her?! I'm sorry but its gonna take more than the color of her skin and a few catchy hooks to sway me to the point where I feel its necessary to leave anonymous comments on someones blog when they don't like her.
It was a three sentence post that took me a minute and a half to write. Trust me, my hate is alot more time consuming than that.
And if youre such a strong independent woman, why the anonymous comment?

Kisses Bitches!