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...

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.

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!

SuperSlagalicious!

That's not to be confused with the Swagalicious one

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

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

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

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

Boo!

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

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

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

Grrrrrrrrrr

I reallllllly am starting to be very skeptical about employment agencies.  The latest one that I've hooked up with is not giving me a confident feeling to put it mildly.  It started off pretty well.  I was especially excited because the Treat's Truck was close to their offices.  If you're from NYC and like desserts, you really need to check out the Treat's Truck website and get a cookie or some shit.  Lady is like my fucking hero!  She's got a tricked out old fashion ice cream truck named Sugar, wears a kitschy lil uniform, and makes delicious treats.  What's not to love?  I once got a caramel creme sandwich cookie and gave it to a dude I used to work with.  He looked at it all kinds of funny cause it wasn't fancy looking at all, in fact, they kind of look like sand paper.  But then he took a bite, and that was all it took to get him hooked.  Their motto is "Not too fancy, always delicious!" Anyway, enough about the Treat's Truck for now...

I was also excited about The Agency because it's a certified women owned enterprise, which I thought was cool.  So I get there and the young receptionist asks me to fill out an application.  I was in a snit about it at first, but the application actually asked alot of good questions - things that you couldn't find out by reading my resume.  And she also gave me this sheet with tips for a good interview.  For the most part I agreed with all of the tips, but one kind of bothered me.  It said that you should always wear a suit to interviews.  It went on to say that by a suit, they meant two pieces of the same color purchased together, clean and well fitting.  Now first thing that bothered me about this was that I was sitting there in a black button down shirt, black pencil skirt, (black sheer pantyhose) and round toe black pumps.  Second thing that bothered me about this was that in all of the interviews that I've been on so far, only the men that I interviewed with (3) had on suits, and one was extremely ill fitted, and one didn't even bother with his jacket.  None of the women I met with had on anything even close to a suit.  

The funny thing about it was that I had just bought two new suits and had them tailored so they fit properly.  (Shopping note: If you buy anything from Syms, they have tailors in the dressing rooms and the fee is rather cheap for the work they do.  Turn around was pretty quick too.)  I would have been a little pissy if I walked in there in my new Calvin Klein herringbone suit only to find this maybe 21 year old receptionist in her motorcycle boots and short skirt.  And there there was the other candidate in the reception area in his older brother's suit.  At least thats what it looked like to me.  But I didn't wear a suit and I still looked professional.  And some days a working woman can't go wrong with a nice professional yet feminine dress.  

Anyway back to The Agency.  The interviews went well, and they didn't ask me to test.  I mean really, who works somewhere for 7 years, with references provided, and doesn't know how to proficiently use Word and Excel?  I think it's a little insulting when they ask me to test my skills.  Especially when they tell me that I can't use all of the nifty shortcuts that someone who has used Word or Excel for over 10 years has picked up.  And then when I left the interview and stopped by the Treat's Truck, she was sold out, but she gave me a free cookie!  I seriously have a thing for that woman now.

A couple of days pass and I hear from the permanent placement counselor that I met with.  She tells me about a job that sounds pretty interesting but just got listed, it going to be a while before she hears back from them.  Next day, the temporary placement counselor that I met with calls me.  She has a long term temp job working at a well known firm, replacing someone on maternity leave.  She tells me that they tend to keep people that they like and it sounds like an interesting thing to do for a little while.  (how long in general is maternity leave anyway?) Then she tells me the pay per hour and I say send my resume.  I get off the phone and pull out the calculator and wait a second, it's like half my last salary.  Seeing as I'm still getting paid from The Last Job for a little while longer, I technically could take a pay cut IF it was something amazing that I really wanted to do.  But I'm tired of sitting at home so I figure I'll talk about it with the Temp Counselor when I hear back from her.

When I do, and bring up my concerns, chicky starts whining.  "Well we really like for our candidates to tell us no before we send their resumes and you're putting me in a really uncomfortable situation!" she screeches at me.  Hold on, I simply pointed out to her that the pay was a large step down from what I use to make and I asked her if it would end up hurting me in the long run.  For instance, I said, if they decided to hire me full time, would they expect me to receive less that my last sizable annual salary because I have already done so?  "Oh! Well, um, no!  I mean they would in most cases look at what your last full time salary was. And if you're really worried about the decrease, I can up the pay by $2 an hour."  She really never should have told me that.  Because now I think I can get more money out of her.  Not to mention, I know someone that does temporary placement and if I'm going to give someone my commission, I would much rather it be her.  And because I've known her for so long, I know that she probably won't try to fuck me on the deal, at least with out some dinner and a good lube....

Haven't Done One of These in Awhile

I was on craigslist, looking for jobs when I came across this ad...

Sexy, Open minded, Latina, Middle Eastern or Black
Secretary
Sucessful businessman in search of a hot, open minded personal assistant
for a brand new home office your daily attire will be panties and socks, or
pantyhose, or panties and a tank top...etc. you must be a bit submissive, and
open minded. Latina, middle eastern or black preffered...white girls welcome to
apply. 18-40...hours are flexible...pay is high. send pic and phone number for
details and to set up your personal interview. pretty feet, nice round tits and
a tight ass are definite pluses!
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with
services or other commercial interests
Compensation: 1500 per week
PostingID: 670403933

That's like $78,000 a year if anybody's interested....

Back to Black

or Brownie as the case may be.  

It was around this time last year that he first got back in touch with me.  It had been about a year and a half since we had spoken that time.  And I was single, and had fired enough brain cells to forget why I had stopped seeing him in the first place, so we hooked back up.  I said to myself (and a couple of you said it too I believe) that there would be no harm in spending some time with him.  And there really wasn't.  But there really wasn't any gain either...

Honestly, I'm probably the last chick that you have to worry about pressuring a dude for a commitment.  So it wasn't that I was expecting a ring or anything even close to that.  Shit, I wasn't even looking for a toothbrush in his bathroom.  All the fuck I wanted is to feel like I wasn't wasting my time.

What do I mean by wasting my time?  Hmm, let's see.  If you invite me out to eat and spend the night at your house, and I'm wearing the hell out of a gorgeous white sundress and some sexy ass platform sandals and you're wearing basketball shorts, socks and sandals, I think you're wasting my time.  If you call and tell me about this comedy show that your going to this weekend and was wondering if you could stop by on your way home from the show, I think you're wasting my time.  (Really dude, why even tell me about the show?  If it's just about ass, why not just wait til you're on your way to the show and then call and see what I'm doing later?)  If I have to take a two fucking trains (LIRR no less) and spend an hour and 20 minutes just to get out to your house and you tell me that your not going to be able to drive me home (last time he saw my ass by the way) then I think you're wasting my time.

So, why was I chilling with Hautechick and the Artist when my phones starts trilling, "we always said goodbye with words, I died a hundred times, you go back to her and I go back to..."

Appropriate, no?  Wellll, would be if I'd actually said goodbye.  I really just stopped returning his phone calls or answering them if I was by the phone.  I just can't understand why he would call me again.  Ok, so I do have a little inkling as to what might have made him take the chance, but the sex wasn't that good.  At least not on my end.  You know, I really really really really miss having my mind blown.  I keep saying that I'll abstain for awhile, absence and fondness and all that jazz.  But all that ends up happening is that I have all of this unused sexual heat and longing that build and build and build until I can't take it any more and I do someone (usually stoopid) and I end up unleashing all of that on them, which to be honest they usually can't handle, but then their smitten or lusty or whatever the fuck you want to call it and then I can't get rid of their asses.  Or its halfway decent but my aggressiveness scares them off.  Punk asses.

But, that's besides the point.  The point is Brownie called me again, after about a year.  And while I'm not horny, ok so I'm not that horny.  Actually forget I said that part at all.  Anyway, I have a lot of free time on my hands, and he has a pool.  And the weathers nice.  And fuck a dress - sweats and a bikini ya feel me.  But I'll be damned if I drag my ass both ways on the LI fucking RR again....

The Where I Was...

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

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

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

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

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

Dogs are barking

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

April Showers

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

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

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

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

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

Half Baked

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

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....

The Prostitute and the Politician

A case could be made for either being the world's oldest profession.  On the one hand, you have the men and women who seek to govern others, to rule in a sense over the masses.  And on the other, you have the men and women who seek to please, to pleasure and submit to the masses.  Or in some cases to pleasure and submit to the elite.  As much as we've seen Elliot Spitzer or H. Carl McCall(to those not from NYC, both are local politicians) on tv, we see the residents of the Bunny Ranch and others making a quick buck off of sex.  

Personally, I've never bought nor paid for sex.  But to be perfectly honest, I really can't knock the hustle of someone who can get paid $5,000 for an hour of their time.  Of course it is much more than an hour of time that they are giving up in exchange.  But with some control and intelligence, I can see how someone could use being a prostitute to become something more.  Hell, shorty in the news right now, wasn't very smart at all and already the offers are pouring in.  Then there was the former call girl who wrote that book.  I read it and to be honest it was so dry that I can't even remember the name of the book or the author.  Nor do I care to take the time and look them up.  But the point is, she managed to not only get out, get married, and get a book deal, but to also be completely honest about what she did without anyone turning their nose down (too much) at her past.

A bad politician, one who lets secrets slip, who goes after people who are supposed to be his betters, who comes off as a self righteous prick, who goes against the grain, who offers up motions and ideas that no one wants anything to do with, who can't balance an enormous budget.  Well there's really no redeeming the politician now is there?  No one ever says, "Oh, poor little politician, s/he was just young and naive and got taken advantage of. They just used her/him like a pawn!"  No one ever feels sorry for the ex politician like they would for the ex prostitute. 

black is the new president bitch...

sorry for the commercial, bitch asses got me for that one.  it'd be my fucking luck that it will play that fucking Beyawnce commercial.  fucking free advertisement bullshit.  but I used hulu rather than utube, cause it allows you to edit clip that you would like to embed.  It's open to the public and even has movie classics like "Dude Where's My Car"  

Here's Tracy Morgan on Barack Obama and Hilarity Clinton.  tee fucking hee!

A Business Decision

I went back and forth with myself on whether or not to write this post.  But if there is one thing that I am, its honest.  And if there is one thing that I learned since I started blogging, its that sometimes getting it out is very therapeutic.  So here it goes, I was laid off.

Actually happened back in December, and BossMan very (insert tongue in cheek) generously is still paying my salary.  I came back from vacation, determined to make the best of my job.  And for two whole days I was popping!  Then BossMan called me into his office and asked me to close the door.  The first thing out of my mouth was, "Am I in trouble?"  I was smiling when I said it, but I had a very bad feeling.  The next few minutes, to be honest, were a blur.  Mainly because BossMan was rambling.  He said something about administrative cost, and budget restructuring, and finding a place for me if I wanted, and continuing to pay me for awhile.  "Wait a minute, I don't understand what you're telling me.  I'm fired?"  There was some hemming and hawing and some thats not how I would put its and some I really care about what happens to you and some I'm sure that you will excel wherever you decided to gos, but what it boiled down to was yes, I was fired.  Laid off, what the fuck ever you want to call it, it blows.

I mean at first I was hurt.  He offered to let me leave then, but if I'm honest, I'm also proud, so I told him I would finish the week.  I realize now that offer was for his comfort, not mine.  He has never spent so much time out of the office as he did that week.  He should feel uncomfortable, fucker.  Executive decision to devote more funds to d's and a's and less to administrative staff my ass.  I mean sure I was making about as much as CrapCakes and Bambi combined, but I also put up with his bullshit for 7 fucking years and am not mentally and socially retarded.  What it really boils down to is that I was the only person making very nice money that was not related to him.  Combine that with the fact that they were going to implement profit sharing and time based bonuses and vacations and I would have been making very nice money indeed.  Add to it, that Madame BigShot was pushing for my removal and it makes a very bitter recipe for humble pie.

As you can see, the hurt quickly turned to anger, then morphed into a kind of "fuck it I'll be better off" mentality.  This was in part due to the fact, that I haven't had to work since he's still paying my salary.  It gives me time to find the right job, not the just the job that will pay the bills.  Alot of my friends and family can't believe that he is still paying me, but I'm to the point where I know I deserved it.  I don't wish him ill, but I certainly won't be keeping in touch like he hoped.  I can use CFO as a reference if I need to.  He was very upset to find out that BossMan let me go.  I think it was in good part because he had nothing to do with the decision and he hates to be left out of company matters.  Rightfully so, since his dad and him are also major investors.  

So I'm home, spending time with my god daughter and the rest of my family.  Cleaning and renovating my apartment - still cant find a got damned sofa that I like though.  Playing with Duke.  Cooking.  I still plan on heading out to California, just not as soon as I had hoped.  If I dont get on it soon, my god mother has threatened to come and get me.  Even though I've been home for 2 1/2 months, she insists that I need a break.

And hey, if any one is in the market for an overpriced, highly intelligent, self motivated, snarky, bad ass Executive/Personal Assistant, keep your girl in mind! (I see you Puffy - you know you want me.  You'll just have to take my word that I'm cute, cause I'll be damned if I submit a picture like this is some sorta internet dating service instead of a got damned job application.  What the fuck were you thinking?!?)

SuperSlag Update

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

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

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

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!

Troub the Perv

• In answer to your query PrettyBlack - you know I did!  Don't know about the taming part, I kinda like them spirited.  Its when they turn into whiny bitches that I kick them to the curb.  Nothing worse than a dude that acts like a chick.
• Speaking of which, I saw Big Mr. Sad yesterday.  I had lent him a book and he finally returned it.  I was gonna chalk the cost of the book up to the price I pay for dealing with a man with bitchlike tendencies, but he made a big deal out of returning it.  I'm talking asking other people to give him Cousin T's phone number so that he could talk to her.  (It didn't happened, but if it had Cousin T probably would have laughed at his punk ass.)
• In case you didn't know, I have a serious thing for firemen.  I think Mr. March and Mr. August are my favorites from the 2008 FDNY calendar, even though I'm pretty sure that Mr. March is married (Go Head with Your Bad Ass Mrs. March!)  Don't ask me why, but they have fascinated me since I was a wee one.  Sooo, there is a fire house about 4 blocks away - Hello Tin House!  and about 2 weeks ago I saw the truck go by and noticed a new brown face in the bunch.  And yesterday I was driving past with Mommy and who should be standing outside but the new guy, and good lord is he fun to look at.  Me and Duke may have to take a walk down there soon.
• I have Nicaraguan neighbors.  I really can't figure out the family except to say that there are the parents, then they have 3 grown daughters, and then there are 4 grandkids.  I'm not sure which kids belong to who and that includes the grown daughters cause one of them calls the father by his first name and one of the grandkids calls him Daddy.  In any case one of the grandkids is a baseball player.  About 16 or 17 and I just noticed that he is fucking gorgeous.  Not that I would hit on a kid, especially one that I've know since he was about 9, but damn!  I mean really damn.  No wonder there has been a influx of teenage girls hanging around the block lately.  I feel kinda protective, I want to give him some condoms and the watch out for scheming trickettes talk.  I really not sure when he went from being a cute kid to a gorgeous young man but the teenaged girls better watch out for that smile.
• Speaking of gorgeous young men that I know, OtherMother's grandson is grounded.  Seems he came over to OtherMother's house afterschool with two friends, a boy and a girl.  OtherMother decides to fix some snacks for the kids and is heading down to the basement when the boy friend tries to intercept her.  Talkinbout he'll bring the snacks downstairs and its no problem, just stay upstairs.  Yeah right.  OtherMother goes downstairs and finds her grandson hopping into the bathroom trying to pull up his pants and the girl (I started to call her a young lady, but that is so not the case as you'll see in a minute) wiping her mouth.  OtherMother goes off on the boys and then tries to have a talk with the girl.  Tries to tell her that she shouldn't be giving out sexual favors like gum samples and that she needs to be careful about sexually transmitted diseases (OtherMother got them to admit that she was going to blow the other boy too) and this little shit is stoopid enough to tell OtherMother that she doesn't have to be careful cause she's already pregnant.  (Not grandsons)  This poor child is 14 to hear OtherMother tell it and living with her grandmother. 
• I have a crush on Bill Goldberg the jewish wrestler....