Back in Brooklyn

So I didn't get a chance to finish the Richmond story while I was actually there, because Four was with me for the rest of the trip. I got back into Brooklyn on Monday, sleepy as shit due to a 6 am flight after 2 hours of sleep. By time I was getting into my nap on the plane we were landing! I had a great time! Even Four nearly passing out after the hot tub was fun! I told him not to drink too much wine before we got in!

I discovered alot on this trip. Chick-fil-a, target selling wine (and fireworks!), scattered hash browns from Waffle House, strong ass drinks in the clubs, and thats just the food and drink related stuff. I also found out that I could go away with a man and not want to kill him. And that living in NYC has spoiled me - I've had my drivers licence for over 10 years and I've driven maybe 10 times since then. That changed in VA. First I had to pick up the rental car before Four arrived. Then I took a trip to Target and Chick-fil-a, then I had to pick up Four from the airport. I also drove on Sunday since Four has a bad back and was all drugged up when it started bothering him.

For the most part, I really like his friends. They are all well educated, highly hilarious individuals. Get them together and its great jokes, and amazing conversation. And the men are almost all 6 feet tall or better, I felt like a midget in my flats! After the rehearsal dinner, we headed out to a club and it was hilarious for several reasons. It was interesting to watch the women in the club react to the guys we were with. And it was funny watching their reactions when the realized that just about all of them had hit the club with a woman by their side! Oh the hate, not that I can be mad at them. Then there was the dude that sweated out his whole suit. You would have thought that he would take his jacket off once he started dancing and sweating but you would be wrong. At the end of the night, he even danced his way out of the club. There was also a cover band that did an r&b version of Mrs. Officer. It reminded me of the wedding singer from The Hangover. I think I giggled through their whole set. I also found it interesting that the men there were alot older than the women, at least they looked older.

The wedding was beautiful. Black love is a gorgeous thing! The bride and groom make a beautiful couple. And the wedding cake was fantastic! We headed out to a club after the wedding but let me skip back to the part where I said that I like all of his friends for the most part. There was one chick there that I was really contemplating punching in the throat! I might have mentioned that Four and I went to the same high school and that he was two years behind me. Well this chick also went to our high school and was a year behind Four. So after the wedding Four introduces me to her and ask if I remember her from school, which I didn't. I stopped paying attention to the underclassmen that were behind Four. Didn't really know them and didn't really care to. My senior year, when she would have been a freshman, I was more concerned with getting out of there without having to kill someone.

But the school was very small, I think there was something like 87 kids in the whole school the year I graduated. And while I wasn't too concerned with making new friends my senior year, I was also captain of three sports teams, in the chorus and jazz band, in at least two plays, and on student government. So when Four asked me if I knew her, I couldnt say that I did at the time. He introduces me as his date and then says loud enough for her to hear, that we all went to the same high school. We get to the reception and Four is off talking to some of his friends, and I'm standing by our table with a couple that I met down there (by the way, I loved these two. Shes, let call her L, incredibly snarky!) and this chick is going to say to me, "so who do you know, the bride or the groom?" L shoots me a look and I'm thinking is this chick trying to make me feel like an outsider, because its clear that everyone knows each other, either because they went to school together, or because they are coupled up with people who went to school together. I tell her that I'm here with Jason and she hits me with an "Oh". You know they kind I'm talking about, thats laced with disdain. About 5 minutes later L ask me what the hell is that chicks problem and I truly cannot tell. I should also mention that it was about 5 minutes into the reception and she was already smelling like someone dumped 2 gallons of liquor on her head. The chick was down there with her husband, who has met a number of the crew before but is still a bit of an outsider like me. She left poor dude alone at the table for most of the evening and lord only knows where she went.

At the end of the night, after L and I made numerous jokes at her expense (I may not have a relaxer in my hair, but I know enough about them to say that she was about 6 weeks past needing a touch up - you trying to tell me that she's never heard of a flat iron?!) her and her poor husband are leaving and she's going to come up to me and say, "it was nice meeting you." And I say, we aren't just meeting, we went to the same high school and she comes back with a "yeah, but I don't remember you." Really bitch, for some reason I doubt that highly. While I may not remember too many underclassmen that I didn't have personal relationships with, I sure as hell remember all of the people who were ahead of me in school. I spoke at graduation, which all the underclassmen attended. I was one of the leads in the senior play, which again all the underclassmen attended. I was all over that school and you dont remember me? I'm just gonna say I doubt it and leave it at that.

Anyway back to me and Four. We discovered that we both have a sick sense of humor, which we already kind of knew but it was further demonstrated being around so many sharp witted people. We also discovered that he likes to play in my locks, although hes usually not even aware that he's doing it. We discovered that we really like sleeping next to one another, he's a great spooner. And when I got back, we discovered that we really missed sleeping next to one another. He's out of town on business and called me this morning around 8 just to hear my voice. We are turning into a very sappy couple.

Lions, Tigers and Bears

Jazmine Sullivan's song is really speaking to me right now.  I feel like for the first time in my life, I'm in a truly mature adult relationship.  We've actually known each other since high school, and as is my way, Four is younger than me.  We hadn't seen each other in a couple of years, but he was always one of my favorite people back in the day.  This was despite the fact that he used to love to hug me when he was sweaty (from playing basketball) and was always poking holes in my afro.  Back in high school we had a brother sister relationship, and for a minute when we found each other again, thats how it was.  He invited me to his birthday party and I while I noticed that he was looking a little yummy, I kind of chalked it up to the fact that I had been celibate for a good while.  He made a point of introducing me to his boys, and by doing so, I got alot of dirty looks from some of the females in attendance.  One in particular looked like she was ready to scratch my eyes out!  Cousin T was with me, and we had a great time.

Then about a two months ago, I was in the house bored and decided to see what he was up to.  On his way back to Brooklyn about to head to his boy's party, did I want to tag along?  Most definitely.  I put alot of thought into my outfit.  Not because I wanted to look good for Four but because I didn't want to get the side eye from any of the chicks that he might want to bag.  Bubba (my best white boy) and I have arrived at parties together and I know from those experiences how tight women can get when they see a boy they want to bag arrive with a female.  So I wore some tight jeans that make my new booty (I've gained about 15 pounds since September) look great and a low cut dolman sleeve shirt.  Did my makeup a little more subtle than I usually do for a party and was ret to go.  Four texts me that he's outside and when I open my front door, he's standing in front of his MDX waiting for me.  I realize now that I've lowered my standard considerably in the past, because this was the first time in a long time that a man was actually waiting to open the car door for me.  

Four gives great hugs.  I know I've never been that big, but I always see myself as a big burly bitch.  But hugging his 6'4" frame made a bitch feel dainty and ladylike and damn it if I didn't like it!  But I'm still thinking that we're just friends and that he's looking at me as a big sister not a potential partner.  We hit the party and one of his good friends from high school (who I always thought was a sweetie) was there.  Four and I are joking about all the tall men in the party and he's telling me that I should go do my thing.  But for some reason I thought it wouldn't be cool and I stayed by his side.  We sit down and sure enough he takes the "she's with me stance."  That's when I started wondering, "is this a date or am I just out of practice being around male friends?"  But no the second thing is not true.  I recently hung out with my gorgeous god-brother with no problem. (You might be thinking that of course I wouldn't hit on my god-brother, but we hadn't seen each other from the time we were about 9 until about 2 years ago and we are in no way related by blood.)  So what was going on with me?

We leave the party and I'm still deep in thought about what the hell is going on between me and Four.  I'm not paying attention and two boys start a tussling.  Four grabs me by the waist and pulls me in close to him and honestly I just about melted.  Something about being in his arms just felt soooo nice.  And I picked up that he liked me being there when the boys stopped the bullshit and he still didn't let me go.  We went out to eat after and just like in high school the conversation was great.  We definitely can wax poetically about more now than we did in high school, but I remember that we were never at a loss for words when we were together back then either.  He could always make me laugh with his strange sense of humor and acerbic wit and I've found that nothing has changed about that.  He also has the most uncanny ability to say the most outrageous things to me without me getting offended or pissed off.  Actually they usually just make me laugh.

So he drives me home and the whole way there I'm wondering if I'm the only one who thought that this really felt like a date.  I'm wondering if I kiss him will he pull back, let me because he doesn't want to offend me (and besides what man doesn't like kissing a hot woman!?) or will he be thinking the same thing that I am - wondering what those lips will feel like?  So we get to my house and he gets out to open my door.  For a second, I thought he was going to kiss me, but instead I got another one of those hugs.  It was a great hug, don't get me wrong, but I wanted to a kiss.  So what do I do?  I bet your thinking that I reached up and planted one on him.  You'd be wrong.  Or maybe that I asked him straight out to kiss me.  You'd still be wrong.  You know what my smooth ass does?  I mush him!

Somethings

So I reallly try hard not to hate on GP, so when I found myself disliking Sarah Palin, I had to explore my reasoning.  So I did a little research.  Now, I want to start off by saying a couple of things.  I'm not a democrat.  That right, Trouble is a proud Independent.  I actually voted for Ralph Nader in the last election.  (my reasoning, not that I need to justify my decisions, was that since I couldn't get behind either of the candidates on the major party tickets, I would try and lend my vote to getting the green party a voice in the next election.  Didn't work and were still stuck in a pseudo democracy, but it's not for lack of trying on my part.)  While I voted for Hilary Clinton to become a senator in New York, I never considered her a viable candidate for President.  (for me she had her chance when Bill was in office and for that matter so did he.  let's try something new since the old shit is obviously not working.)  I do feel that as a country, our moral character is atrocious, but I don't think that religion is the answer or has a place in government.  (and yes I cannot help but hold the mother accountable for the actions of the daughter.  that however has absolutely nothing to do with politics.)  

Now, on to what I don't like about the Republican vice presidential nominee.  Ok, fine the average American does take more than 4 years to finish college, and most of us I'm sure have gone to more than one college.  But that just it,  the AVERAGE American.  I don't think that anything about our President in Waiting (cause lets be honest dude is reallly old and his health is not the best.  in fact John McCain is something like 23 years older than the state of Alaska) should be average.  We're talking about the so called leaders of the free world.  They should be fan-fucking-tastic in every damn way.  Exceptional even.  Not former weather girls or whatever she was.  Yeah we had presidents who were actors, but actors have to actually memorize line.  Television reporters read from teleprompters.  I'm not knocking television reporters, there are some exceptional ones, but she wasn't one of those either now was she?

And I know this is totally irrational and somewhat petty, but fuck it I'm entitled to my opinion, I hate her style.  It's tacky.  The "oh I'm so busy and unconcerned with my looks but make sure my bangs look good" hairstyle drives me insane.  I was so fucking happy to see a picture of her with her hair down it was ridiculous.  And I know that she's worn glasses since she was a little kid, but I still feel like she wears them so that people will take her seriously.  Besides that I hate them.  Whats the point of a rimless lens only to have that big metal side bar.  The dude who makes them was like, oh thats nice that she made my glasses popular, but don't think I'm backing her or anything.  (not a direct quote, but he really did say that - check the associated press if you like.)  And then there's this picture of her sitting in what they say is her office (there's a whole debate going about her taste in decorating, but some people say thats not her office)  in what have got to be the ugliest pair of red wedge flip flops.  That really bothers me, I mean flip flops and Alaska just don't go together in my mind.  But beyond that, you telling me Haviana's won't deliver to the Governor of Alaska?  Come the fuck on, you can do better.

And that exactly the point.  I'm no where near what you would call a McCain fan, but he could do soooo much better.  It's like Jason Bourne said, it's like a bad fucking Disney movie.  Actually it's more like one of those knock off Disney-type movies.  I bet old Mike Eisner rejected 50 stories similar to this.  And worse,  I'm pretty sure the rest of the fucking world are continuing to laugh at the stooopid fucking Americans (hey, completely random but you know Bucket is a great replacement for saying Fuck It and just as much fun!)  

Let's take a minute to talk about First Dude.  So not cool.  We are supposed to believe that Palin is this independent career driven woman that lets nothing stop her, and yet her husband always with her to the point that he's billing the state of Alaska for his time?  Just how much influence is he going to have?  The press has had a field day talking about the other spouses, even went so far as to call Michelle unAmerican but not so much info out there about Todd.  I've heard that he was/may still be part of a group that would like for Alaska to secede from the United States, but I'm not sure if thats true.  Regardless, I would like to know more.

I'm really just kind of hoping she goes the way of Geraldine Ferraro, I can't even remember whose running mate she was supposed to be.

A Bitch Is Back With Rats & Whatnot

The Rat

So I'm at Nostrand Avenue train station, which is just about as bad as Utica for sighting rats.  I'm walking toward the back of the Express platform because even though I need the local, I know that downstairs is like, I can't even come up with something its like cause its like nothing else you've ever seen.  Rats every fucking where.  And bold as shit too, don't think that stomping your foot is going to scare them off.  So, I'm walking towards the back of the train and I see dude sitting there and I'm thinking that I sure as fuck wouldn't be sitting on the stairs with as many rats as there are at Nostrand.  And just as I think that I see a rat by the edge of the platform.  I'm still kinda far, Nostrand Ave is a long ass station, but it looks like the rat is closer to me than the man is.  So I keep walking and as is my way, my mind starts to wonder.  Where the fuck it goes, I haven't the foggiest, so if you come across it, just make sure it doesn't cause too much damage.  (I was going to say trouble, but you were expecting that weren't you?)

I had my iPod with me so I'm sure I was singing along to something.  All of a sudden I see the man jump up about 5 feet in the air and I see the rat running away.  What.  The. Fuck.  Right?  I mean did I really just see that.  Did I really just see that rat sneak up on the dude and try to crawl up his shorts?!?  Yes.  The.  Fuck.  I.  Did.  And nearly passed the fuck out for him.  I mean the leap in the air, in retrospect, was hilarious.  But I couldn't even laugh because I was so fucking disgusted.  So dude says to me, "You didn't just see that!  You can not tell anyone one that you saw me scream like a girl."  And I'm all private school snarky ass black chick with the, "Seriously are you kidding me?!?  It was a fucking rat in your pants!   I sooooo saw that and I'm soo writing about it on my blog!"

The Whatnot

If you were wondering where I've been, I was severely depressed after LadyShay came to New York, turned me on to the ways of Sapphic love and then abandoned me.  After which I briefly stalked Taimak from the Last Dragon, which lead me to discover the death of Julius Carry which further deepened my depression.  The situation was further exacerbated (whoa, I spelled that right on the first try- and I'm about to use it correctly!) when I discovered that two of the most disgusting, unattractive people I know are getting married (If a woman who has no problem spreading her thighs on the beach so that she can pick at her numerous razor bumps and I guy who has so many cavities that he doesn't even have to open his mouth for you to see them can find love, why the fuck can't I?  Probably cause my ass is way too picky for some of these half assed dudes...) The depression abruptly lifted upon discovering the deliciousness that is Peaches (a restaurant) and smothering my blues in copious amounts of Chicken Fried Chicken from the Comfort Diner, Bacon Cheeseburgers and fries from 5 Guys (I am obsessed with 5 Guys - The Artist calls them crackburgers), spoiling my Mom with a Mojito soaked lunch at Cabana, discovering the funnocity that is Wii, washing an incredibly big dog who hates water and throwing myself into my work.  You would think that I'd have gained some weight, but you'd be wrong, tummy's still 100 good sit ups away from a 6 pack.  Ahh it is wonderful to be naturally thin. (and don't worry that food was supplemented with organic heart healthy oatmeal for breakfast and plenty of fruits and vegetables!)  

Smooches Hooches!

Whew!

Ok, 4 post in one day.  I think that should be enough to get you through the week.  But I got one more story.  Ok, 2 more stories that I think you'll enjoy...

• So its hot as the hinges of hell in New York right now.  Has been for the last 3 weeks or so.  And humid as shit!  So I woke up on Saturday and took Duke outside in the backyard and decided that he looked hot and needed a haircut.  Now I should point out that I've given Duke a haircut a couple of times and it generally comes out looking good.  Not so this time.  I don't know if it was because I was hot (I mean I was sweating buckets out there!)  or because Duke was hot (he kept fidgeting) or because Mommy jinxed me ("Wow, it really looks like you know what your doing!"  that was about 5 minutes before I took entirely too much off of his back left leg.  Then he wouldn't give me his back right leg so that I could at least even it out!)  Needless to say, my poor Pooper looks a mess.  So bad that everytime I see him I say "Awwww, I'm sorry!"  At least he's a lot cooler now.  I, on the other hand, gave myself heat stroke out there cutting all that fucking hair off.  I was thisclose to passing the fuck out.
• After the heat stroke/bad doggy haircut debacle, I decided that I was going to take it easy on Sunday.  Go get a mani/pedi and then go pick up dinner so that Mommy wouldn't have to cook.  I was going to say Mommy or I, but who am I kidding, I'm allergic to the stove in the summer.  So I get the mani/pedi (no thank you, designs are fine for some people, but fuck no I don't want polka dots on my toes!) and then stop at the ATM and hop on the train at Kingston/Throop to go get some food.  I walk towards the back of the platform, but not too far cause I don't want the rats to get me.  I'm waiting, I'm waiting.  Everything copacetic until the train comes cause it brings a big ass rat with it!  The rat in on the platform running from the train and heading right the fuck for me!  I can admit I screamed a la Mariah, but I bet any of your asses would have done the same damned thing if you saw a NYC subway rat charging up the platform at your ass!  So I'm screaming and running away from the rat and the people waiting in the middle of the train platform and wondering what the fuck is wrong with me, UNTIL they see the rat then those mutherfuckers start hitting high notes too.  So the train stops and the people getting off the train are looking at the people on the platform like we all lost our minds.  AND then, they see the rat and a couple of them seriously looked like they were contemplating hopping right the fuck back on the train.  That is until it looked like that was what the rat was going to do too...

Oh shit, I just remembered that I had a CWAAZZZY story to tell you about SuperSlag - somebody remind me...

Buggy

Despite my tom-boyish tendencies as a child, there was always one thing that could make me turn into a shrieking girly mess, bugs.  I hate them, all of them.  Butterflies are pretty to look at, but let one of those mutherfuckers land on me, and I will hit a high note like Mariah.  I don't care if its harmless, or pretty, I don't want it to touch me. 

So naturally bugs flock to me in hives.  I don't have ants in my apartment, or even roaches.  I get fucking centipedes, one of the most horrid bugs in my opinion.  Not only are they multi-legged but they are also kinda slimy and thus EXTREMELY GROSS!  One night I left a glass of limeade by my bed in a big red plastic cup (what I think of as a party cup.)   I wake up in the middle of the night, grab the cup and got a little something extra with my sip.  No, it wasn't tequila, IT WAS A FUCKING CENTIPEDE IN MY FUCKING MOUTH!!!!!!!!!  But I didn't realize it at first, thought it might have been a bit of pulp.  Good thing I can't stand pulp.  Bad thing I spit it out in my hand and turned on the light to see what it was.  (I can admit now that if anyone else had been in the apartment with me when this happened, they probably would have laughed their ass off at my antics, but seriously it was a bug in my mouth!)  Lots of listerine, lots of tooth brushing, lots of willies....

Then the other night, I get out of bed to go potty and I step on something kind of squishy.  I'm really hoping that Duke spit a piece of food out on the floor.  Of course not.  I killed the summabitch, but I still stepped on the damn thing with my bare foot.  Needless to say my right foot was scrubbed til it was pink like a white babies bottom, and just as soft.

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....

Dancin for Dollars

I've been kinda worried lately.  Not that I wouldn't find a job, but that my not having a job might make Mommy feel like she has to pick up more of the slack.  I've been sending out resumes, but alot of employers ask what my yearly salary was with XBossMan and then I wouldn't hear from them again.  I met with a couple of placement agency but they were not panning out.  It seems to me that they lure you in with promises of $80,000 plus bonus jobs that never materialize.  Meanwhile they're trying to convince you to interview for jobs that pay a little more than half of that and to lie and say that your last salary was less than it was.  Wouldn't want to discourage the cheapskates now would we?

Then there were the fucking test.  Do you really believe that I've spent the last 7 years working as a personal/executive assistant and I don't know how to use Word or Excel?  It's fucking insulting.  What's even more insulting is that the fucker didn't tell me that you can't use shortcuts during the test, in fact they take off points for using shortcuts, so I got a 90 on a test that I should have gotten 100 on.  Oh, and how about the asshat counselor that wanted me to contact the companies that I worked for 8 and 9 years ago and ask them to confirm the exact dates of my employment.  WHAT THE FUCK?!?!  

So I was trying to avoid any employment agency listings.  But one intrigued me.  And I was half way sold when she got back to me and told me that there was no need for me to do any skill testing.  But she had just had a baby and was not working out of the office, would I be willing to meet with her assistant?  Sure, I've always been intrigued by women with male assistants.  The meeting went well, very well.  But I still kept applying to jobs, cause Mommy didn't raise an idiot.  

In my online travels, I came across a couple of jobs that really interested me.  Two weeks ago, one was practically screaming my name.  I mean sooooo right up my ally with some perks that I could reallllllly enjoy.  So I submit my resume, I think it was a Saturday evening or Sunday morning.  I get up early on Monday to head to Tangers with Cousin T (see post below) and Mommy sticks her head out of her apartment sees me and says, "Oh, I thought you were going on an interview."

About 3 hours after that, I'm standing in the middle of the Nike Factory Store and my cell rings, its the HR department for that amazing job that I applied for.  Would I be able to come in on Thursday for an interview?  3 hours after that, my new placement agent calls my cell and ask if I would be interested in a phone interview for a job at a sturdy company.  I say its a sturdy company because there would definitely be job security and a good salary.  The thing is, I'm not really interested in the industry and I would be the second assistant, answering to the first assistant.  I really dont have a problem answering to someone else, but I do have a problem with most women.  I'm not gonna prevaricate, I usually don't like them and they usually don't like me.  I have never been hired by a woman.  Wait thats a lie, when I was 14 I was hired by a woman.  But job security!  So I said yes to the phone interview.

I wasn't sure how it went, its kinda hard to gauge reactions when you can't see someones face, but I didn't think I tanked it.  But I must be very hard on myself, cause my agent called me a short time later to say that the the HR lady loved me and wanted to know if I could come in the next day to meet in person.  So that's how I ended up with two interviews last Thursday, which was also the day it was 87 degrees here in NYC.  And then yesterday I got called in for a second interview at the job that I found on my own.  So things are looking up, but forgive me if I disappear.  Hopefully it means I'm dancin for dollars!

More Post Latah...

This is just a reminder to me cause its too fucking nice outside, I wanna go play.  So the posts I had planned to do will have to wait.  Enjoy my notes until then..

• Me Cousin T and her Mommy going to Tangers Outlet in Riverhead (ask me about my new Coach bag that I didn't need but couldn't resist...)
• MonkeyGirls Dance performance and the little bitches mean mugging on my second favorite 13 year old girl (Cousin C) and why she's one of my favorite 13 year olds
• Women with close male friends (Cousin T & J) 
• the state of my job search and how I just might stop looking for a job and start looking for a sugar daddy
• house party with Cousin T and my new Skinny Bitch T-Shirt - "Is the skinny bitch alright?!"
• adventures in target and other retailers (why the hell do people always want to TALK to me!?!  Damn my cuteness!)
• Introducing BluesMan - the closest thing I have to a stepdad, even if he and Mommy aren't together anymore
• the stupidity of tagless panties aka why I had to buy all new underwear (damn you GapBody!)

So stay tuned for more Troublicious fun!  Oh and I did a guest blogger thing over on the Skivvy but a bitch (*Aaaaahautechickhooooo! ) hasn't paid me, and insulted me so I'm not really promoting that shit.  And I was trying to find a job before I came out there PB, so a bitch wouldn't be broke and semi-depressed!  Texas sounds good though!  Just remember LadyShay, no hugging PB!  (and got I hope you got some sand in your ass for me too ShayShay la Funk)

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."

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.

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!

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

Vice

• today I did post on sex, violence, and politics.  i guess you could say I'm feeling horny, angry, and argumentative.  you could say it, but you might get cut.
• Did anyone hear about the fatal crane collapse that happened last weekend in NYC?  I mean besides the people that live in the metro area.  It is sometimes an amazing thing to watch those cranes put up skyscrapers, especially in NYC where space is always at a premium.  But it is also terrifying.  They are these amazingly tall structures that look so delicate.  My heart goes out to the families of the 7 people that lost their lives...
• sheesh and I dark and moody today or what?!  I think its the rain, cause it couldn't be that whole no job to go to thing.  Good thing a bitch is still getting paid.  A check for doing nothing will lift your spirits like nothing else will!
• there was an FDNY ambulance and a police car in front of my house today for awhile.  I saw them helping a woman into the ambulance and then the cops talked to her for a while.  am I smart or paranoid to want to go outside and take pictures of the sidewalk around my house just in case?
• I really dont think that really high class call girls would advertise their services on websites where any dick tom and harry who had a good night at the craps table and little sense can acquire their services.  I'm just saying
• I think that it is toooooo huge a coincidence that our guvnuh is forced to step down for a sex scandal right before the ever problematic NY State budget is due.
• I remember what it was like to be 22.  to think that being with your friends and partying was the most important things in the world.  i also recall that I didn't really date 22 years olds even when I was 22.  Back then I was a lolita instead of a baby cougar...
• when I was 19, I decided to leave the college that I was going to in CT in order to take a full time job back home in NYC.  So when I was in my early 20's I had already been working for awhile, had my own little bit of money, and was cocky as shit.  I also used to smoke and met a number of men when they asked me if I was too young to be smoking.  I dated alot of 30 year olds during that point in my life.  A LOT and I'm pretty sure that there was a 40 year old in there somewhere briefly
• before I left that school in CT, I managed to make my way through a crew of guys.  I don't think that most of them even knew that I had dealt with the others despite the fact that there weren't too many people of color on campus.  I actually didn't sleep with all of them, but I was courted, coddled or spoiled by each and every one of them.
• People tell me that I look innocent, and I used to take great advantage of that.  I think thats a major reason why I was able to get away with pulling that last stunt pretty much unscathed.  The scathed part was that I didn't figure out that the dude that was acting like my brother, was the one that was the most interested in me.  Of course he was the one I was least interested in and he started talking shit about me.  It only took about two sentences for people to figure out that he was just jealous of the dude I was seeing (not one of the crew.)  Note to guys: never finish slamming a girl by saying, "You should have been with me!"  
• The other scathed part was the fight I almost had with this chick over the one dude in the crew that could have been considered my man, sort of.  He was sleeping with her too, which was cool because while I didn't want to know who, he did tell me that he was seeing someone else on campus.  She unfortunately wasn't as realistic with the situation as I was.  She was also older than me and to say marriage minded would be an understatement.  Anyway, one night at a semi formal party, she and a friend walked up on me while I was dancing with another guy (part of the advantage of being a tom boy and a seductress is that people never know if the dude is a friend or a luvah - this one was currently a friend but was a past luvah) he was a (something I can't say cause it will give away more than I want) but saw the set up and warned me.  She managed to get a swing in, but then again so did I.  Let's just say, I was a little more accurate.  I lost a $5 necklace and had a scratch on my neck, she had some bruising.
• Got damned confused as fuck seagulls!  Cawing out my window like I give a fuck.  Bitch this is CENTRAL Brooklyn, take your ass back to the sea and leave me alone damn it.  Fucking bird goes off, wakes up Duke, then he starts barking cause he don't know what the fuck that is. It's happened twice this afternoon. Sheeet....

Perception

When I first started this blog, you'd be hard pressed to find a picture of me.  There was a reason for that.  You see, when people first see me, snarky is usually the last thing that the think.  For one thing, I'm pretty tiny.  Despite being almost 5'7", the most that I have ever weighed is 125 lbs and that was when I was working out 4 to 5 days a week.  Add to that, what Hautechick calls my cow eyes (big brown eyes with pretty long lashes) and the fact that I could pass for someone 10 years younger and I'm not what you would call intimidating.  As a result, weak willed bitches always want to test me.

I cannot tell you how many times I've gone out with Cousin T, shit will pop off, and some dumb chit thinks I'm the one to be tested.  There was the time we went to a party with her sisters (CoHo, SuperSlag, and Bobby) and it was raining.  I should insert here, that I have a thing for walking umbrellas, I have to stop myself from buying more.  So needless to say, you won't catch me carrying around some generic black umbrella if I can help it.  I check my umbrella going in, but on the way out its a total mess.  All of the tags have fallen off of the wet umbrellas.  But I know my shit, and I made sure to speak to the dude that was checking them, so he hands me my shit right off and I'm out the door waiting for the rest of the crew.

Here comes Cousin T, cause her shit is always purple, but before she gets to me heres some random chicks in my face.  Two of them are gonna walk up to me and start talking about how they think I stole their umbrella.  "Yeah I'm pretty sure thats my shit she's holding."  "Yea, that looks like the one you had."  Me, I'm standing there with my eyebrow cocked, waiting for it.  Cousin T is standing behind them, waiting for it too.  One of them reaches out and makes to grab my umbrella.  It wasn't raining at this point so I use it to smack her hand away, "this is not your umbrella, walk away." real calm real quiet like, which should have been her first clue.  "I think it is mine, let me see it."  "Now, if you had walked up to me and asked to see it in the first place, I might have let you.  But you want to try and grab shit and I hate rude people.  Get the fuck out of my face bitch."  Now she's going off about how I disrespected her and Cousin T has been joined by the rest of the people with me, so they are pretty much surrounded by some chicks that are in some cases ALOT bigger than me.  All of a sudden, they want to be nice.  "My bad, I thought it was mine."  Little chick standing by herself they wanna pick on. Little chick surrounded by some burly big backed bitches and the want to back off.

It's the story of my life.  Some low self esteem bitch thinks she can feel better about herself by picking on the skinny chick.  What they don't know is that the skinny chick is kinda quick with the wit and the fist.  And I'm not above fighting dirty if the person is bigger than me.  Which pretty much means I fight dirty all the time since I can't ever remember being in a fight with someone who was my size or smaller.  I can honestly say that I NEVER in my life started a fight, but I've finished quite a few.  I've had my share of busted lips and scratches, but they've all healed.  But I don't think that I would be able to live with myself it I knew that I let other people intimidate or bully me.  That's just not the type of person that I am...

and for the record, I don't back down whether I'm surrounded by burly big backed bitches or by my lonely!   

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"

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...

Hot Damn!

Its late but I need to get this out before I forget.  Sorry if it doesn't make too much sense but I dont think I'm going to get much sleep until I get my day off of my chest.  (Current song : Sexual Eruption, Snoop Dogg) What a fucking day.  My interview wasnt until 1 but I was up at 7.  I stared at the ceiling for awhile til I got a huge hairy paw in my face.  Took Duke out, ate a doughnut (mmmm doughnuts), showered and headed upstairs to get dressed.  (And my curls dropped some in the shower!) Wondering why I had to go upstairs to get dressed?  Well, while I live in the studio on the first floor, Mommy occupies a very nice 3 bedroom duplex.   I'm currently keeping my work clothes up there while I continue to renovate my apartment.  Keeps down on the dog hair on them that way too.  Last minute I decided to wear all black.  Good fucking decision.

I'm moving and shaking, even managed to put a coat of neutral polish on my nails.  Then I can't find my mittens.  I love those mittens!  And they go perfectly with my long black shearling coat.  So I settled for some black knit gloves and stuffed a hat into my newish Coach bag.  (Newish cause I bought it in December and haven't ever carried it, til yesterday)  I'm out the house ahead of time and when I hit the subway platform, heres the momo fucking train.  Owww!  I get to the city a full 30 minutes early for my appointment.  Head up to the office and first impression was that maybe I had made a mistake.  The people in the reception area weren't what I would call quality applicants and the former crackhead looking black receptionist was hating on me from the moment I walked in and took the attention of the former crackhead looking dude waiting in the lobby.  Lucky me.  

Then this chick is asking me to fill out an application.  Would someone please explain to me why I have to fill this shit out when I gave yall my resume and all that shit is on there.  And fuck no I'm not giving you the name , cell and HOME phone numbers for references!  Just when I'm thinking this might have been a waste of my time, here comes my Agent.  An adorable incredibly well maintained upper middle aged Italian woman dressed very nicely in ALL BLACK (go Troubsy!) with some funky colorful glasses on.  We head to her cubicle and pictures of her kid, grandkid and her dogs!  

Sidebar: Would someone please explain to me why I have been given the task of changing the opinion of what dreadlocks are?  I sit down and first thing she says is "Ok, first off, I think your gorgeous, but can I ask are those dreadlocks?!  Whatever they are, they're gorgeous..."  15 minutes later, the woman that sits behind her says "Excuse me, your curls are beautiful, I've never seen dreadlocks like yours." (Current Song - Honey, Ms. Badu)  

After about a half an hour of talking to her and doing some MS Office testing (I had to do some mail merge labels LaShay!) what do you know, I'm on my way to interview at this great little company.  I was supposed to meet with the Head of the Company's assistant, but I ended up meeting with her, one of the partners and the Head.  Go Trouble!  Not only would the job give me the opportunity to do something that I really love, but because of my major it would be the perfect place for me to advance as well!  Only thing is I would be taking a pay cut.  Nothing that would hurt me financially, especially since BossMan is still paying me for awhile longer.  But do I really want to go backwards?  On the other hand, the benefits are really really good and one of the perks is that I wouldn't have to pay for breakfast or lunch.

Shit, I mean this company does exactly what I told Mommy I was interested in when she asked me what I Wanted to do.  I might be jumping the gun, but I'm pretty confident that I impressed them.  I mean the fact that they interviewed me alone told me something, since they had stopped interviewing yesterday.  And I was the first person to meet with more than one person that worked there.  The job would be replacing an admin that is relocating to another state.  Her last day is tomorrow....

Hair Drama Llama

ok so there's no llama, but ever since Daners said it I've been dying to blog jack it.  Plus its hella fun to say.

So I have this interview tomorrow at a placement agency, and I've got the wardrobe thing figured out.  But I have no fucking idea what to do with my hair!  You see, I spent about 12 hours this weekend, washing my hair, tightening my locks and putting each and every single one on a got damned rod roller (how I get my luscious curls.)  So by the time I finished washing and shit, it was like 12:30, no fucking way I was gonna spend 2 hours sitting under the dryer after all of that.  So I tied the largest silk scarf I could find around them bitches and hit the hay.  Or tried to in any case.  Felt like 5 fucking million rollers were trying to bore their way into my skull.  ALL FUCKING NIGHT!  I was cranky the next morning, to say the least.  In fact, it's fucking Thursday and I still have a sore spot on the top of my head.  Which I can't figure out, it's not like I slept standing on my head.  That should be the one spot that doesn't hurt, right?

So the next morning, after all of my hard work the night before, I decided to sit under the dryer just to make sure my curls set.  I sprayed them all with some water, then some good ole fashion oil sheen and promptly fell the fuck asleep under the dryer.  That put a crick in my neck.  But my curls were tight.  No, not tight like good, tight like the belong on a got damned poodle!  And I have a interview tomorrow, errrrk! scratch that, today, my curls still haven't dropped any and I don't know what the hell to do with them.  I was just gonna snatch them up into a ponytail, with all the curls it looks like an elaborate bun, but then I can't put on a hat.  And its supposed to be cold tomorrow.  I just don't do under 30 weather with no hat.  Hell, most of the time if its 40 I still have a hat.  Might not be on all the time, but it'll be stashed in my bag somewhere...