happy birthday daddy.

i remember when i first met you.

i was six and you were the nice guy visiting the folk next door. i had gone over to visit because they were so nice to me and i had a crush on your friend derrick. so what if he was twenty years older than me? he was tall and red-boned just like i liked them back then (so far as a six year old can develop a 'type') and he always smelled good.

so on this day i was next door mooning over derrick when you walked down their stairs. i took one look at you and dismissed you immediately. you were too short and had hair growing out of your face. i thought you looked like a miniature big foot. YUCK.

then you started speaking and i thought to myself "he sounds just like a teacher." basically, you were a miniature big foot with an excellent vocabulary. DOUBLE YUCK.

and then it was later in the day and my brother and i were playing outside. i remember you stepped out and watched us and then you came over and started playing with us. i remember you tossing the football to both me and little bro and i thought to myself "we have a new playmate and this one's GROWN UP!"

i remember being so eager to introduce the nice man who played football with me and little bro to my mommy. i told her about you about an hour later.

"mommy!" i exclaimed, "there's nice man is staying next door with the jacksons!"

she looked at me with that weary "what is my child talking about now" look on her face. she knew then that look never swayed me to shut up.

"mommy!" i exclaimed again, this time tugging at her skirt so i had her undivided attention, "he played football with me and swady!"

and with that statement she looked down at me intensely.

"who is this man? what'd i tell you about talking to strangers?"

"he's derrick's friend!" i exclaimed yet again (come on, you know damn near everything a six-year-old says is done with an inordinant amount of excitement)

"and what did i tell you about calling grown ups by their first name?" she said as she lifted a brow and waited for me to answer. i quickly glanced down at my feet, the suffucing shame making me shuffle them with instant agitation.

"i mean mr. jackson," i mumbled sorrowfully. then i looked up at her with my 'you know i'm too cute for you to be mad at for long' look. she smirked at me with that 'you know i'm too old to fall for that look' look. mom and i would go on to do battle against each other using our eyes for YEARS as you well know, but i digress.

anyway, aswad brought you over to meet mom that same day. were there sparks between you and mom? did i just ask a question with an obvious answer? DUH. but i had no idea. i mean, i was only six. i was just glad i found someone who didn't mind tossing a football with a girl so it was all good as far as i was concerned.

that is, until you actually started DATING my mom. then i was ready for you to bounce. i remember you coming over at nights when you thought me and swady were asleep. one of those nights i tip-toed to the stairs, sat down, and watched you two making out on the couch downstairs. now THAT really pissed me off. first off, what were you doing kissing my MOMMY? secondly, WHAT WERE YOU DOING KISSING MY MOMMY?

YUUUUUUUUCK!

and that's when i realized you were the enemy. i jumped into battle mode.

it was a number of months into the relationship by then and it was obvious you two were getting serious. part of me was happy because i still missed my daddy terribly and you were the closest thing to a daddy i had in my life at that time. the other part of me hated you because i thought you were gonna replace my daddy and no one could replace him.

when you married my mom, i was determined to hate you. remember all those times when i made your life hell? i still remember that night i cussed you out at age thirteen. it was something to the effect of "get the fuck out of my face! you'll NEVER be my dad!"

could you really be mad? nah, cuz you were the one who taught me how to cuss with the best of them. i knew i hurt you back then but i didn't care. i WANTED you to hurt. i wanted you to know that every time you tried to assert yourself as my father, you were competing with a ghost, a ghost whom you could never replace. i knew you were frustrated by my behavior but i refused to let up, despite the fact that you were always protective of me and loved me as your own child. i kept that up right until my 14th year.

it was summer and i was preparing for my annual trip to new york. you walked into my bedroom with a brown paper bag in your hand.

"you can never be too careful," you'd said as you handed the bag to me, "i'd rather you be protected if something happens."

i opened the bag and gasped. there were condoms in the damn bag. i remember giving you the 'are you serious?' look and i swear i saw it in your eyes.

it was the 'i love you little girl' look. for some reason on that day at that moment, i realized you really loved me. i saw how far you were willing to go to protect me. you didn't like the idea of me being sexually active (and in fact i wasn't) and i KNOW you weren't comfortable with discussing anything sexual with me, but in that one act i saw how courageous you were. you were willing to put aside your discomfort so i would be empowered by knowledge, so that i would be empowered to take care of myself.

on that day in my mind and heart, you became my dad.

i remember my first day at college.

it was after you and mom had left and i was putting my clothes away. my glance fell on a little brown paper bag stuffed in the upper corner of the suitcase beneath some of my t-shirts. i knew immediately what was in the bag. i laughed and shook my head as i opened the bag and peered inside.

condoms.

and this time you had like fifteen of them stuffed in the bag. come on dad, did you really think i was gonna get THAT buck? i was still a VIRGIN. :)

so i gave some of the condoms to my roommate who definitely was NOT a virgin. the rest i would stick onto the announcement pad outside of my door (and no, i didn't consider the fact that by using wall tacks i was in fact puncturing the damn condoms. i was slow back then and besides, the girls used the condoms anyway!! looking back i have to wonder how many children were produced as a result of my tactical error, but again i digress...)

remember when you came to see me and found out everyone called me the 'girl dealing in prophylactics'? i think maybe you were just a little proud of me. it was because of you i was courageous enough to go to the clinic and get condoms for everybody. thanks for that dad.

i remember when i was sexually assaulted that first time and i called mom and told her. it was like 11 p.m. and i was crying and it was just an awful night. that is, until you showed up at like 1 a.m. with mr. thompson in tow, ready to throw down and kick that guy's ass. you busted up in my dorm room like you were ready to bust a cap in someone's ass. it was a sight to behold. you with your 5'6 frame stalking the room like you were 7 feet tall, mr. thompson trying to calm you down as you tried to calm me down. i felt so much better with you there dad.

after that, you always drove me back to school no matter what. remember that time when i got back to my room only to discover someone had peed on my bed? the look on your face was priceless as you questioned my roommate about it. i'm sure she was scared shitless. by the time she confessed it was one of her friends who'd done it, i thought you were gonna kill her for sure. you were cool though. when you made her switch out the mattresses so that i had her mattress and she had my urine soaked one, i almost burst into tears right there. you had my back yet again, dad.

you've never been the most affectionate person in the world but i KNOW you look forward to my hugs and kisses when i see you. i see that twinkle in your eye, that 'give me a hug girl' look on your face even though you try to get stoic, like you ain't into that kind of thing. you ain't fooling me, dad. i know it was you who left money in my suitcase for me to find like it was some lost money i suddenly 'found'. dude, how could i find $100 dollars in my suitcase when i didn't have a penny in my checking account to begin with? you thought you were being slick, didn't you?

or maybe you weren't trying to be slick. i mean really...money don't just up and appear out the blue like that. i might be a little ditzy at times but even i know i can't lose money i'd never had.

either way, you have always been there for me dad. ALWAYS. not once in my life when i have needed you have you failed me. EVER.

you were the one i called when i was arrested in cordele (long story for another day).
you were the one who introduced me to sports.
you were the one who empowered me to protect myself sexually.
you were the one who taught me how to check and change my oil and oil filter and tires and battery.
you were the one who taught me how to play tennis.
you were the one who taught me to be leery of guys and their intentions.
you were the one who taught me to protect myself from guys with bad intentions.
you were the one who encouraged me to participate in sports, never once saying i couldn't do something because i was a girl.
you ARE the one who exudes strength and love, two things i'm always in need of from you and you always give them to me, no questions asked.

i have always been a star in your eyes, dad. you have loved me better than many men love their biological children.

you took on the task of raising two kids who weren't yours at an age when most men are looking to start families, not insert themselves into ready-made ones. you hung in there through all the times i cussed you out and rebelled against you. you believe in me when i don't believe in myself, always supporting me in my endeavors, always reminding me i'm gifted and can be whatever i want to be in life.

i say happy birthday because this is a day that should be celebrated. the day you were born is the day the world was gifted with a kind, generous, loving, strong, magnificent black man. the day you entered my life is the day my world was gifted with a guiding light, an empowering and enriching and uplifting spirit. you changed it forever.

happy birthday to you, daddy.

know i am thinking of you with that "there is no way you could know just how much i love you but i'll show you in every way possible" look on my face.

numbered aimless musings

inspired after reading my girl blah's entry. YOU HAPPY NOW CHICK?!?


1. i'm in love
2. with the color celadon
3. if actions speak louder than words then how come folk find it so easy to fall in love with folk based on words without action?
4. i've fallen in love with someone's words
5. i've fallen out of love based on someone's actions
6. i've mistaken myself for being in love
7. it sucked to realize i was just infatuated
8. i'm really starting to think maybe i've never been in love, or maybe it's i've never been in the right kind of love
9. i'm pretty sure this time next year i won't be living in atlanta anymore
10. you know, i've got to be really careful because being lonely tends to make me magnify my feelings about folk, like i find myself trying to convince myself i could live with the fact that we're too different, even though i know that means a relationship with him wouldn't work.
11. i think some folk choose to live a homo.sexual lifestyle, just as i think some folk choose to live a heterosexual lifestyle.
12. if you're a g.ay female, why would you be attracted to someone who dresses and acts like a guy?
13. would you still be attracted to that person if she got a sex change operation?
14. i have like fifteen cds full of porn
15. someone went through my stash and i'm down to five
16. i know who did it and i'm kicking his ass next time i see him. i'll make sure he washes his hands first though
17. i wonder if i'd be living in atlanta if my father had lived
18. my mom says we'd have been living in toronto as that's where dad wanted to move us. i can't even imagine how different my life would have been.
19. i wonder if the child i aborted would have turned out just as confused as her mother
20. i wonder if the life i aborted as a result of aborting that child was a better life than the one i'm living now
21. i wonder if i'll ever get over the guilt of having ending her life before she'd had a chance to live it
22. i still love her
23. i sometimes think i'll forever be punished for that decision and that maybe i'm not deserving of being here
24. i went to the emergency room the other day and all they could tell me was what they couldn't do as they handed me prescriptions guessing at what i might be suffering from
25. i saw a young black anorexic woman waiting to be treated
36. unfortunately she was surrounded by a bunch of enabling folk who catered to her need for attention
37. i honestly believe that's the worst thing they could do for her
38. she had a script:
her: "i've got so many problems (listing of problems)"
anyone who would listen: "poor thing...i know life has been rough for you (or some statement similar to that)"
her: "yes" followed by weeping
them: "don't cry baby, it'll be alright"
her: "god bless you!" followed by more weeping
39. and that shit went on like a looping record for the next three hours until i was saved by the avenging angel with the needle in her hand intent on sucking the blood from me.
40. believe me when i tell you it was preferable to listening to that chick.
41. actually, an enema would have been preferable to listening to that chick.
42. an enema or a pap smear with really cold tools
43. speaking of which, i was made to put my ass on a bedpan and spread my legs for the probing of my cervix that night. no stirrups, no nothing. for a second i expected them to ram an icicle in my twat and scrap around for 'abnormalities', it was just that damn caveman-like up in there
44. i watched the little league world series during the doctor's invasion of my vagina
45. it was wierd, kinda like watching television during sex, only without the orgasm or the fondling that actually feels good
46. wait...i just described my last sexual encounter
47. maybe i should have checked to make sure that doctor's name wasn't maurice
48. i've got way too many of my folk reading this fucking blog now
50. i find myself in a situation where i encouraged folk to behave in a way that's kinda reckless
51. i did it because i didn't want my caution to be misinterpreted as me trying to hate
52. meanwhile, i keep forgetting folk will think what they wanna think no matter what i do
53. i think my happiest time of the day is when i see the sun breaking free from the horizon
54. which explains why i'm more melancholy when the sky is overcast
55. i know i'm not all that great with writing poetry
56. i'm actually cool with that, although i'll keep trying to improve
57. ever come across a blog that started off with promise, then degenerated in little more than a bitchfest complete with all the bitterness and constant whining and "but i'll be aiight" entries?
58. i know folk have to work through their shit, but sometimes it's annoying as fuck reading the same shit over and over again
59. kinda like how i keep writing about not getting sex. i know that shit's annoying you as much as it's annoying me
60. one blog trend i've noticed...when a person has just found someone new to 'crush' on online, he or she uses his or her blog as a confessional, like "here's all this shit about me so you'll find me fascinating and think 'wow...this person is so courageous for being so candid and shit'"
61. it's kinda like how folk want to tell their life stories to a person they just met so folk can abbreviate the 'getting to know you' phase and get straight to the 'we're in love' phase without the 'i've seen your ass in action and even though you said this shit you did this shit' phase or the 'i've learned all of these other things about you i'm not all that cool with but they're minor in the big picture' phase or the 'we've hung out over a period of time' phase or the 'i'm in a grumpy ass mood and ain't really trying to hear you right now' phase
62. it's all ice cream and rainbows in blogland
63. ever find yourself wanting to email a fellow blogger on the low and be like "yo, i know you caught up right now, but it's probably not a great idea to put all your blogger biz out there."?
64. i do, then i realize that's their journey
65. i know i have to experience shit before i learn the lesson most of the time
67. i'm sending out a mass email to folk to tell them to stop sending me forwarded email cuz it's getting to the point where i'm not reading my email because of that shit
68. my brother is heading back to san diego this week.
69. i'm gonna miss him like norwood missed that kick in super bowl xxv
70. wait...i don't think that was a good metaphor for what i meant
71. i'm gonna miss him like a kid misses cake
72. my dad's surgery went fine. now he's laid up for two weeks before he can use his crutches
73. anyone care to guess who'll be taking care of him this weekend?
74. i'm not in love with being in love
75. yet i fantasize about finding the man who evolves me just by loving me
76. i wasn't at work yesterday so i didn't go to lunch with mike
77. the more i think on this, the more i'm realizing just how much i don't want to go to lunch with him again
78. it has nothing to do with his skin color and everything to do with his over familiarity with my body
79. the internet has a way of making folk feel as though they have an over familiarity with each other's mind
80. meanwhile, the fingers have a way of filtering light onto an image so that unflattering shit is forever cast in shadow
81. like airbrushing away unsavory antics that would have a reader going "this person isn't cool AT ALL."
82. no doubt there's a person out there with a blog who has murdered or raped someone else
83. bet you won't see him or her talking about "yeah, i killed someone and they deserved that shit." if they're looking for popularity points. now i can see that shit if the person is just trying to gross mothafuckas out
84. if my blog was a face, it'd have bloated cheeks stuffed with too many words, narrowed 'i's forever trying to bring focus to blurry thoughts, a nose that at times sniffs out only the stench in the air, a mouth framed in full, sensual phrases, that refuses to remain closed and a tongue of dangling elipses intent on licking your mind until it was erect with attention.
85. ever notice how people try to woo folk with their entries? like they step up their prose and poetry game cuz they know a person they like is digging their shit
86. i've done that shit before
87. it was cool for a while until i realized i'd be writing for life so i had to find internal inspiration for stepping up my shit
88. i can't believe i'm actually close to 100
89. when i started this entry, i thought i'd have to struggle to get to 25
90. now i'm wondering if 100 is enough
91. folk don't like honesty when it means telling them a truth about themselves they don't dig
92. for instance when my brother asked me how i could be so concerned with my mom's health when i wasn't taking care of myself, i damn sure didn't want to hear it
93. i think i was in that emergency room not because my physical health was in danger of shutting down, but because my mental health was in danger of shutting down
94. cuz the biggest thing i got from that er visit was the conversation i had with my brother
95. he reminded me i make the choice to live every day or treat each moment as if it's a second closer to my death
96. he reminded me i'm worthy of living because god put me here and that everything i do is either honoring that gift or dishonoring it
97. he reminded me i'm here for a reason and that if i don't get about the business of living a purposeful life my aimless wandering will affect the folk out there i won't have helped because i haven't yet helped myself
98. he reminded me that no matter what, there is one person in the world who loves me and believes in me and ain't afraid to tell me when i'm fucking up
99. he reminded me of why i love him and believe in him and ain't afraid to tell him when he's fucking up
100. man. now i'm finished...

101. rub your erect attention up against this entry and fuck what i word.

no posting today folk

just a request for prayers for my dad. he's in surgery today to repair his achilles heel that he broke up a month ago when his 54 year old self was trying to impersonate a 25 year old dude on the basketball court.

lunch date has been rescheduled cuz i'm leaving early today. talk to you soon!

Pick 'em league still open (One week left)

[EDIT: the league is split right down the line with 50% men and 50% women as of right now. no doubt there will be alot of shit-talking when the season starts in a couple of weeks. get in where you fit in!]

this is the league for all the prognosticators out there. if you don't like the committment of the fantasy football league but would like to participate in at least predicting who will win and lose the games this season, this is the league for you!

here's the link:

group id: 4171
password: winner

i'll keep the league open until the first game of the season, which occurs in september. good luck!

the fantasy football league is full so we can't take any more participants. however, we've only got four in the pick 'em league so hop to it!

guess what happened?!?...tale of the swirl...

[please note...this is a multiple choice story, which means you gotta guess what happened next and click on the corresponding answer. the end of the story is a couple of posts down, but DON'T CHEAT. click on the 'back' button to get back to the original page if you guess wrong. DON'T CHEAT DAMNIT.]

it was 12:15 p.m. and i had just ended another great im conversation with my girl blah, determined to get some work done before 'the call' came, if it came. my mind was sweating with doubt, fear condensing into droplets of 'what ifs' sliding down in meandering streams of unanswered questions to gather in puddles of agitation in my thoughts.

what could we possibly have to talk about? he's from russia and i've never spoken at length to anyone from that country.

why did he ask me out to lunch? i can count on one hand the number of times i've even spoken to the guy!

did he really mean to take me out to lunch or was he just playing? i've had plenty of planned lunch dates that ended with me stood up due to some 'unforseen emergency'.

and then my phone was ringing. i checked the caller id. it was him.

oh SHIT.

"hello?"

"hello, nikki." his accent was thick like a bowl of borsch fed to the silence in a spoon laden with bulbous chunks of "sh's" and soddened pieces of "k's".

"hey," i checked the name on the caller id (yeah, i couldn't remember the guy's name), "mikhail?" i was unsure of how to pronounce it. i heard his deep chuckle on the other end.

"yes," he answered, pleasure in his voice, "are you ready for lunch?"

there was a pause while i considered whether or not i really wanted to go through with this. then i responded...

a. "you know, i'm not really up for lunch today. i've got too much work to do. can we reschedule?"

b. "i don't think we should do this. i really don't know you well enough to go to lunch with you."

c. "sure"

still writing

i'm trying a different format in telling the story of this lunch, so bear with me. it'll be posted by this afternoon. :)

the end

i saw what he was doing but i couldn't believe it. he started caressing my thigh as he looked into my eyes. his hand felt warm through my jeans and i could feel a tension gathering in my muscles. it felt nice but i definitely wasn't comfortable with the contact, as i felt he was getting a bit too familiar with me. i saw the brotha approaching from behind the car and i leaped out, a sly disengagement of his hand from my leg.

brotha took the boot off and we said our thank yous and goodbyes. on the way back to my office building, mikhail was talking about the next time we were going out. i wasn't so sure i wanted to do this again, but there was obviously an attraction there, even if i wasn't so eager to explore it.

"when will you let me take you out to lunch again?" he asked earnestly. i thought about it before replying.

"sometime soon," i responded vaguely.

"how about friday?"

"friday's no good. that's my busiest day so i generally don't take a lunch on that day."

"what about monday?"

"that's a better day," i said, "call me and we can confirm."

he pulled into the parking lot in front of my office building and turned off the engine. then he placed his hand on my thigh again and started caressing it again. i looked up into his eyes and saw a familiar fire blazing within them. hmmm...

"i will look for another place for us to eat and i will call you on monday." he was running the tip of his finger up my thigh.

"alright," i said as i opened the door and turned to get out. i felt his finger glide across my hip and make a path to the middle of my lower back as i stood and got out. wtf?!?

i closed the door and waved at him, unafraid to acknowledge it, but damn sure unsure of whether or not i'm gonna act on it.

"see you monday." he grinned and the twinkle returned. i smiled and turned around, walking with a swiftness to my step as i thought back on the lunch date. i wondered if all european guys were that forward. it was like his every move was whispering "i wanna fuck you". i'm not really trying to do the casual sex thing at this point, but could i really embark on an interracial relationship? i know the swirl is becoming more and more popular these days, but when i see the father of my children, i've never seen him as being anybody other than a black man. maybe that's my own narrow-mindedness at work, but i know what i like and have never entertained a truly serious situation with a cat who wasn't black.

meanwhile, he might just wanna fuck me, in which case this is all moot anyway, cuz like i said, i ain't doing the casual sex thing, i don't give a fuck who it is.

what do you think?

damn...what i expect?

i was talking to a friend yesterday and asked him what's the most romantic thing he's ever done for a girl he was dating. he said he brought her flowers and took her out to dinner.

now of course i cringed as i read that. i was like "is that the best you can do?!?" and then i thought about it...there is no universal set of actions that makes something romantic. i mean, the girl he was with probably thought that was crazy romantic, and isn't that what matters?

i thought back to the most romantic thing i've ever done for a brotha and realized i had different answers for it.

one ex loved video games so i set up a night for he and i to just sit back and play video games all night. the one who won the most matches would get to name something he or she wanted done to him or her. when he won, he asked me to suck his dick in a movie theater.

another ex enjoyed sports, so i made a day of it and bought us tickets to a football game and took him out to dinner.

one ex was just glad i cooked for his ass. greedy mofo...

anyway, those were special ocassions orchestrated by the need to let the guy know i loved him. i asked myself how romantic i am on the daily basis and realized i'm woefully lacking according to my own standards. i mean, i would love to have a man give me a foot massage, but i only gave a total of about five foot massages spread out over five boyfriends. i would love for a brotha to pick up a book of poetry for me just cuz and it's only happened once. meanwhile, i've done the same kind of thing only a couple of times my damn self.

in other words, who da fuck am i to expect romance when i ain't doing it?

my friend told me he'd love for a woman to bath him and give him a massage. i've NEVER done that shit before. i mean, i've done the massage thing. in fact, i've done the manicure, pedicure, and massage thing. however, i've NEVER bathed a guy before. when he told me that, i was shocked i had never even thought to do such a thing. that's like one of those intimate things i would think a person would love to do for the one he or she loves, and i'd never considered it.

and i realized in that moment just how self-centered i've been in my relationships. don't get it twisted, i've done things for my men, selfless things even. however, i know i've done things with the expectation i'd get the same treatment or i did it because it was expected. i didn't realize just how many things i HADN'T done just cuz i wanted him to feel good.

sidebar: oh SHIT. so why was i just asked to go out to lunch by this research scientist? this attractive russian CAUCASIAN research scientist? that dude came from across campus to ask me out to lunch! what's THAT about? i said yes, but really...what's THAT about?

aiight, back to what i was saying.

anyway, so i'm realizing just how selfish i've been in past relationships and that shit ain't cool. is it because i've never loved one to that level where i felt comfortable enough to be completely selfless? then again, shouldn't a person be selfless before all that? i mean, why do i have to be in that kind of love to be selfless to that degree? is it because i haven't even been able to give MYSELF that kind of selfless love? i mean, i was selfish and yet i still wasn't really taking care of my own needs, you know? it wasn't like i was pampering myself or loving myself enough to do things that pleased me.

i know one thing...ain't no fucking way i'm gonna have the kind of love i want if i'm not willing to give that kind of love.

i know another thing...next cat i get with is getting bathed. that's a turn on just thinking about it.

sidebar: for real though...what's THAT about? is he trying to get his swirl on? he doesn't even speak english all that well! do russian folk have a thing for us brown-skinned beauties? why the fuck am i even thinking about it like this cuz it's not like i'm interested in him like that. however, i'm automatically on the defense cuz this is the first time i've ever been asked out to lunch here by a white dude i don't work with. lawd...let my ass calm down...

random thoughts monday

i really want to know who thought it was a good idea to make dr. do.little of the sea a superhero? i have never seen the need for the ability to talk to sea animals unless i'm telling a catfish to jump on my plate cleaned and grilled with a splash of lemon juice on it.

really, someone could have come up with a guy who had the ability to make people choke on food and he'd be more powerful than this cat. super chokeabro'nho could take out all the bad guys with a snap from his fingers. instantly, food would become lodged in the esophagus and the bad guy would keel over dead. it would be impervious to the heim.lich maneuver as the piece of food would adhere itself permanently to the lining of the throat. if he had been around a few years ago, this 'humanitarian mission' in irag would be over before it began.

then again, i can't really hate on aqu.aman like that. the more i think on it, the more i realize his skills could really be useful...i mean, he could command cod to leap onto drug boats and flap around on the deck violently enough to shatter the wood into dangerous slivers of killer timber. the guy reaches down to get at the fish and is assaulted by the flying pieces of wood, ending up with a vicious splinter in his finger. he is later hampered from using his ber.etta during a gun battle when the bandage on his trigger finger is too cumbersome, thus forcing him to use his other hand to shoot, which in turn proves to be fatal cuz he misses his target and ends up with a bullet in the head. (fyi to the animators of the superfriends. images like this DO NOT instill fear in the folk over at the legi.on of doom.)

aqu.aman could also command crabs to jump into the pubic hair of his mortal enemies. you can't tell me crabs in the crotch won't kill a person cuz the itching itself is annoying as FUCK. this won't work on lex luthor though cuz it's obvious he shaves his shit.

wait... you saying those ain't the same kind of crabs? aiight, then this dude is WORTHLESS.

okay, on to more random thoughts...

first, my shout out to fellow blogger king. congrats on his one-year anniversary! i remember when i first checked his blog out (i found him through gapeach) and i was like "is he cute?" i couldn't really tell cuz the photo was too fucking small on his profile, but i was digging the fact he was dark-skinned (i'm a sucka for a brotha dipped in darkness) so i sat and read his blog with my shallow ass. turns out he had some wit about him but i was hating his king demeanor so i mostly just lurked until i saw him post something serious, at which point i commented. he's one of those writers who surprises you cuz you think because he's funny that he's just one for cracking jokes, but he's a gifted writer too. enough with the props. i'll leave the rest of that nut sucking to his women. check out his blog if you wanna laugh and be amazed by moments of brilliance.

fyi to the dudes who think they gotta jump through hoops to get a sista caught up. reading a book to her by candlelight? oh, now THAT'S the SHIT.

something tells me michael vi.ck is gonna suck this year. please tell me i'm wrong cuz i really want to be.

sept. 3 fantasy football folk. don't forget to get your draft list together cuz i ain't trying to hear any excuses when i whup on dat ass.

i dreamt about you for the first time ever. i'm still shocked about that shit. don't read anything into it. LOL

you know, what started off feeling like pain has evolved into a feeling of power. i refuse to see a past experience as bad. that shit helped me to grow, even if it meant me growing away from you.

damn, the yank.ees spanked the red out of those sox this weekend. what the fuck happened to them?!?

i don't know which i miss more, fucking or sucking dick. right now, i'm tempted to call a friend and be like "look, just let me lick it for a minute (that's all it'd take, hehehe) oh, and mike, don't be commenting on how you can't find a sista who can suck you to orgasm. we GET IT already. lol

one thing i love about this blog here is that i get to check all of the footsteps i've made since last year, the missteps into places of despair and the leaps into new more glorious territory. no matter what goes on in my life that i put on here, i'm always gonna keep this damn blog cuz it's all a part of a beautiful journey into the next moment of my life. i am ashamed of none of it, not the moments when i looked less than perfect, when i allowed my emotions to rule my actions negatively, when i cracked open the contents of my heart and read them to you and you relived your own pain. i am not perfect, but i am created with divine purpose, so any and all things i experience are a part of that purpose. i honor all of the moments here, recognizing their value in my evolution.

EDIT: i had to add this per amadeo. dude, i CRIED. lol


HAPPY MONDAY EVERYBODY!

friday question

what is the best pick up line you've used/heard? did it work? what was the result?

the best one i've used: "what's a nice man like you doing in a dirty mind like mine?"

that shit works like a charm. mind you, the guy usually wants to know immediately just how dirty my mind can get, so i only use this line after observing a guy for a while to see if i even want to get to know him like that, you know? there's no doubting what my intentions are when i use a line like that. it's strictly "when we gonna fuck" material. i haven't used it in years though.

*sigh*

i totally miss having sex.



so what you got?

the shit that hit the fan

so yesterday i get in and am greeted with this email sent to me after i had already left for home the day of the skirmish:

"Nikki let's talk about this first thing tomorrow. You ask for a time limit and you come back with impossible. I expected you to begin work on this when you came in after working things out with GSU today."

in other words, he was pissed. so pissed in fact, that he was in the office when i got there. this cat is NEVER in before i am. yeah, nikki was immediately on guard. i started formulating what i was gonna say when i saw him. i had been sitting there maybe two minutes when i look up and see him in the doorway.

"let's meet at eight."

then he turns and heads back down to his office. surely he's not gonna fire me this early in the morning right? as someone who is familiar with the whole termination dance, i understand how that shit is done. they get a day's work out of you before they give you the boot. i have to admit, my heart stopped a bit cuz i never know what to expect from dan, and after the way diane had jacked our working relationship, i knew i had no reason to trust that the meeting would go well. i knew i had to arm myself. i began printing out my job duties and the list of tasks i'd been given to complete this week and the emails and ran through the confrontation again in my mind. i glance at the clock on my phone.

ten minutes...

i walked down the hallway, grabbed nebraska boy and we headed outside so i could clear my head. i told him what went down. i'm not even sure why. i mean, i generally don't discuss any personal issues with other co-workers. however, nebraska boy and i have been cool with each other for five years and i'm probably closest with him than anybody else there. and yeah, he's nebraska down to the bone...tall, caucasian, buzz hair cut, former football player and marine AND republican. meanwhile, we still cool and we spend our breaks together. don't get it twisted though, it ain't that kind of thing. he ain't trying to get with the swirl and neither am i. LOL

anyway, i told him what happened, starting with the incident a few years ago (i'd never told him about that). i told him that being one of only two black people working there left me on edge because the feeling of distrust seemed to be focused solely on me and i wonder if my race had anything to do with it. he said he didn't think my race was an issue with dan because dan is extra sensitive about that kind of thing. he told me how he called one of our co-workers 'pollock' a couple of years ago in jest and how dan ended up sending out an email about the importance of being 'respectful of differences'. i never saw that damn email though.

nebraska boy said he wasn't sure about diane though. i told him i appreciated his candor. he wished me good luck with the meeting and told me not to go in there defensive cuz i did everything i was supposed to do.

so eight o'clock rolls around and i'm in dan's office with my stuff and before i even sit down dan apologizes.

"i'm sorry for how things happened with this task. it was my responsibility to set a deadline for you."

"dan, it wasn't just about you giving me the deadline. the deadline in itself was unreasonable, given the amount of work you've given to me to do."

he sat there for a minute looking contrite.

"you're right. i've given you alot of additional responsibilities lately."

i sat there looking at him like DUH.

"yes, and especially this week, with all of them having a deadline of friday."

"i understand. i want you to take a three hour block today and work on this. then we'll meet at 1 p.m. to let me know how you're progressing. don't worry about the deadlines this week. i really need your help on this."

i sighed inwardly and acknowledged the fact that he was being completely fair at this point and even apologized, something i didn't expect him to do at all.

"okay," i responded, "i'll get as much of it done as i can. is the deadline still this afternoon?"

"no," he said, "the deadline's tomorrow at noon."

he hands me the stack and it looks like it's half the stack i had initially been given by diane. i feel a little better.

"dan, i have no problem with taking on additional work. if this had been given to me last week, all of this could have been avoided. all i ask is that people respect the fact that my day is just as full as everyone elses and i need a reasonable amount time to get things done."

"thanks, nikki."

he looked up at me and smiled as he nodded in agreement.

"again, you're right nikki. i will do a better job of that in the future."

the meeting went way better than i expected.

so after i have the stack in my office, i pull up the database (one i created for diane's ass so she could do her fucking job), i notice i hadn't added a filter feature that would make the data entry easier. i added one and knew the task would only take an hour to complete when i was finished adding some other things to the database to make the job easier.

fucked around on the computer for a minute, then finished the data entry in 45 minutes.

and proceeded to drag that shit for the entire fucking day. in fact, i was still 'working' on it this morning.

now i thought i was slick right? i get in this morning and sit at my desk, thinking i was gonna wait until noon to tell them i was finished. i glance around my desk and notice one pile of my other tasks as grown higher since yesterday. turns out diane has slipped the other half of the damn stack under my shit. oh HELL nah. that shit pissed me off. now i considered going into her office and going the fuck off, but i ended up just doing the entry, which took 30 minutes.

so i finished the entire thing in a little over an hour and now i'm milking that fucking cow until she spurting out dust. the way i see it, if she wants to hand it to me at the last minute, then i can hand it to her at the last minute so she see what it feels like. i've learned that lesson folk. don't be too competent or folk will continue to load their shit on you. dan gave me until noon today, and i'm 'working' on it until noon.

i'm still debating on whether or not to tell her about the upgrades i made to the database. on the one hand, i wanna say fuck it and keep it to myself. meanwhile, i ain't trying to let her stank get into my spirit, you know?

so i've decided to compromise...i'll tell her about the upgrades...next week.

oh the shit done hit the fan now folk!

i knew when he entered my office yesterday that something was up. something i wasn't gonna like. my boss dan was damn near hesitant as he slinked his way through the doorway about an hour before i was to be out of the joint. i was in the middle of work and was immediately pissed with the interruption. i stopped what i was doing and looked at him with barely veiled irritation.

"hi, nikki," he said as he walked in and leaned against my computer desk, "i have a task for you."

his stance was stamped with nervousness, which could only mean one thing.

he was about to hand off some of 'hatin' heffa's' work to me. hatin' heffa who makes a shitload of money in comparison to me. hatin' heffa who tried to get me fired and called me a liar and ruined my peaceful relationship with him two years ago. hatin' heffa who has been trying to sabatogue my efforts ever since she realized i wasn't the nigga to fuck with.

and now she needed my help yet again because of her antiquated way of getting work done. i mean, the chick still uses the typewriter for letters instead of doing a mail merge, folk. she HAND WRITES info into a log instead of creating a spreadsheet that would make her job a whole lot easier. instead of using the jpeg logo i sent to her for her correspondence and such, she cut out a copy of the logo from a sheet of our stationary, glued it to the sheet she needed the logo on, and made copies of it on the copier machine.

this chick bitched for a month when we told her she had to upgrade her computer from windows 98 to windows 2003...IN 2005.

so needless to say she gets behind on her shit.

and until now, dan had done a pretty good job of keeping me out of her mess. i mean, he knows there's animosity between the two of us. he knows why, too. when she complained to him in the past about having so much work to do, he came to me and i had a list of my duties to hand to him before he even said a word. he knows i got my own shitload and i don't have anyone to go to if i'm swamped. i just gotta get that shit done. i never complain, i just do the damn job.

but yesterday dan was in my office with a 'task' for me and i knew it was some shit involving diane and i knew he had to be pretty desperate to be up in my face asking me to do something for her.

"okay," i replied slowly, my eyes never leaving his, "what's up?"

"diane needs you to help her with some data entry."

oh HELL NAH. grunt work? what the fuck?!? my insides started tightening as i felt the anger building. she's behind on her data entry?!? i wonder why? is it because she leaves early every wednesday and friday on the pretense of going to see her fucking physical therapist for a wrist problem she's supposedly had for the last two years? the same wrist that has never prevented her from picking up heavy objects or typing label after label after fucking label time and again for the same people when she could have had a damn database in place that would store her information and prevent duplicate work? could it be because she says she comes in at 7 each morning when in fact she rolls in there minutes before my ass between 7:30 and 7:45, and is out the fucking door by 3 on the days she ain't bouncing at 2?

"okay," i said and nothing else. i was too pissed to speak. he looked at me as if trying to gauge what i was feeling. my face was granite, folk. i let no emotion bleed through at all.

"so how much work do you have to do?" he asked.

i looked around my office and noted just how tidy it was. unfortunately, i just do my fucking job which means i'm competent enough to get loaded upon. i couldn't even act like i was swamped on this particular day. i mean, i had alot of work to do, but it was the work i do in a regular day.

"i've got the regular stuff. the main projects i'm working on are the ones you assigned to me last friday."

"so you have time to do this, then." he said as he walked to the doorway and turned around to face me, "i know you have alot to do. just set aside some time each day until it's done."

what the fuck do you mean i've got time to do this then? i've got two fucking databases to complete on top of the other daily grind shit and you're telling me i've got time to do some bullshit data entry for diane?

"okay, dan." i responded after taking a deep breath, "i'll put aside some time so i can get it done."

"i'll tell her to talk to you tomorrow and tell you what you need to do."

of course he couldn't tell her to get with me at that moment cuz her ass had been gone since 2 p.m.

"cool," i said.

"it shouldn't be that much to do," he said trying to placate me.

whatever, dude.

i silently fumed for about ten minutes after he left, then got around to finishing up my work for the day and left 30 minutes early (after taking no fucking lunch so i could go register for classes).

so fast forward to today, not even an hour ago. after having difficulty with registering (another story which has probably contributed to my general high level of 'not giving a fuckostity' today), i come in at 11 a.m., get settled into my office, and then go to her to find out what she needs for me to do.

okay, so why did this heffa hand me a fucking stack about eight inches thick? i couldn't help my eyes widening when i saw the pile as she gave it to me and was like "thank you so much nikki!" then she tries to act like it was a shared lament as she said "i can't wait until this harvode program is over!"

by the time she started with that shit i was already out of her office and headed down the hall to mine. i mean really, what the fuck does the harvode program have to do with her getting behind? i'm working on that shit too and i'm still doing my fucking job. don't blame this shit on that. you didn't get the shit in cuz you trife.

i get to my office, plant the stack on the table behind me, then look at my own desk and pull up my ms out.look so i can check my task list for the day. that shit is long and i know i'm gonna be here late as it is. i send her an email asking her for a deadline on the data entry so i can plan today and subsequent days accordingly. i figure she'd say some shit like next monday.

this is the exact response i got from her via email:

"Would tomorrow afternoon be reasonable? These reports are old, and I'd like to get the cards sent Thursday morning. Please make two copies of the (personalized) outreach training report for the new trainers (so we'll have one for the hardcopy file). Thanks, Nikki."

TOMORROW AFTERNOON? TOMORROW AFTERFUCKINGNOON?!?

so wait...let me get this straight...she wants me to drop everything i'm doing to put in some shit that's her job and she waited to the last minute to give me that shit? she has no fucking respect for my time and what the fuck i have to do. that was made perfectly clear. time to check that ass with a quickness.

this is what i sent in return:

"Good afternoon

With the other tasks I've been given to complete, it will be impossible for me to have this information entered by tomorrow afternoon. I can have the information entered by Friday, August 18, 2006. Please let me know if this works for you. Thanks!"

ten minutes later she comes huffing into my office.

"let me get those forms back from you, she reaches behind me and basically yanks the stack from the table, " i'll just stay late tomorrow. i really need to get these cards out by thursday!"

oh, she was snippy and pissed.

"i can enter in some for you, diane," i responded, "if we do it together..."

"don't worry about it!"

she storms out of the office and heads down the hall. i raised an eyebrow and smirked at her retreating ass.

so no doubt i'll hear about this in the morning. no doubt dan will be talking some bullshit about "there being no 'i' in 'team'"

i ain't pressed. hopefully what i did reminds him there's no fucking 'nikki' in 'screw', either.

aimless musings

i've been masturbating so much lately my clit's gonna snap off at any minute.

how come i spent thirty minutes in bed this morning trying to figure out a plausible excuse for not going in to work today and couldn't come up with anything?

sometimes folk (like me) get it twisted and think the internet is an adequate way to get to know someone intimately. meanwhile, it's just another way for folk to communicate, meaning folk can tell you what you wanna hear instead of the truth. words are easy to type out, but actions are what really determine what a person's about and action is the one thing you can't verify online.

you have a point...folk will lie just as much in person, but a 13 year old kid can't pose as a 35 year old man in the offline world.

friendship is only as valuable as a person's willingness to treasure it.

i register for school today. hopefully i'll graduate from college before my future kids do.

why are you in this fucking lane when you're not turning?!?

black entertainment television is a joke, like 911 and tax breaks for the poor.

michael vick betta fucking represent this year or i'm gonna have nothing to write about.

i've got two words for you, floyd...shut the fuck UP.

wait...that's four words...make that eight...shut the fuck up and GO AWAY PLEASE.

i'm sorry...i STILL think lance was on the juice.

anybody notice how mark mcguire bounced from the league right before the steroid scandal hit? it's almost like he knew...

why am i here at work trying to figure out a plausible excuse for leaving work early? i'm gonna find one, too...

why is this cat being so distant with me? i can't call it, but i'm done trying to figure it out.

every time i see my niece she becomes more and more beautiful in my eyes (as if that's even possible).

every time i see my brother i'm reminded of just why it is i love him. he loves me unconditionally and supports me no matter what. what folk out there can truly say that about his or her sibling(s)?

it's monday and the sun is shining and the sky is clear and my face is shining and my mind is clear.

i've found some really great blogs to add to my blog roll. now i figure it'll take me about three hours to get through all the ones i read. blog reading is a part-time gig for me at this point.

the pain has finally disappated completely. the mind is truly an amazing tool and i'm glad mine recognizes wasted effort.

my ole girl ladylee is celebrating her one year bloggaversary. show her some love by hopping to her spot. what do i love about her blog? too many things to mention here. she's a gifted wordsmith no doubt, but the best part about her blog is her straight up unadulterated honesty. she' never rude but it's never fake. always supportive and it's always sincere. sometimes you come across folk who really are just genuinely cool folk. she's one of them.

lesson #345 - just because you have locs doesn't mean it won't droop beneath the weight of humidity and rain like everybody elses hair. my beautiful curls have finally been laid to rest and now i'm stuck with frizzy, limp locs.

my weekend was so tight, if it was a twat you couldn't fit the tip of a sewing needle into it.

fyi, i won't be getting online that much to chat in the daytime for a hot minute...these mofos actually trying to get me to work.

i've just joined a new blog telling of the many run-ins we women have had with bad dick (and a few tales of good dick tossed in for balance). i just reposted about the anal sex incident if you wanna check it out.

HAVE A GREAT MONDAY EVERYBODY!

nice and creepy

what do a brotha named karembe and contractile tissue have in common? they're both on my fucking NERVES.

date: monday, august 7, 2006
time: 7:45 a.m.
place: my office
people in this scene: one fine brotha who was beginning to act creepy and one tired sista who wasn't giving a fuck about his fineness that early in the fucking morning but was definitely noting the creepiness.

i hadn't even been in my office a good five minutes...

"good morning, nikki" a deep voice, fragranted lightly with a french ac-scent, was wafting through the air, a savory smell for my senses to absorb. my ears gorged themselves on the sound of him and for a minute i just sat there and waited for him to speak again so my ears could take another bite. then i remembered i'd just seen him the friday before that...and the thursday before that...and the wednesday before that. every weekday for at least a month. this cat has been stopping by my office every weekday for at least a month. initially it was cool and i was digging the attention. then he became more invasive with each succeeding visit, stayed in my office for such long periods of time he was pulling out a chair to sit in so he could talk to me.

that's not cool when i'm the t.n. and he's the negro working in facilities. two of us together might raise eyebrows, especially when the conversation lasts longer than five minutes. whenever he stays in my office longer than five minutes i start feeling like an enslaved african back in the day, engaging in clandestine meetings in plain sight of my massa, planning a slave revolt against the oppression. i wonder if the folk around me are thinking "those negros are planning to kill us in our sleep" or some shit like that. i begin making furtive looks towards the entrance to my office, expecting my boss to jump through the entry way with the exclamation "AHA! i KNEW you negros were planning to kill me!!"

so i do my best to discourage him staying in my office that long. and it ain't just that. i mean, i AM at work, damnit. it's not as if i have a shitload of free time as it is. i gotta look like i'm busy, otherwise folk think they can unload work on me and i simply can't have that. i'm not saying that karembe doesn't have a demanding gig. i'm saying that i have my own shit to get done in a day and i can't afford to set aside thirty minutes to chat (uh, unless it's an online chat that is...)

so on this morning he's in my office mad early and i have to wonder why. is it because when he comes later in the day i put on the "i'm fucking busy doing work" facade in hopes of dissuading him from staying long? i mean, i've gotten to the point where if i see him standing in my doorway i immediately grab some papers and start staring at them intently, as if i'm trying to decode russian spy correspondence or something. then i mumble a "hello", slightly laced with irritation at being interrupted. he must have noted that and made an adjustment to see me when i first get in.

"i saw you pulling into the parking lot this morning," he states to me matter-of-factly, "you looked like you were in a rush."

i digest that bit of information and responded, "i was running late."

"you get in at about 7:45 every morning, i see."

what? he notes what time i get in everyday? oh HELL nah.

"uh, yeah. i usually get in right before i'm considered late," i say as i swiveled towards my computer pulled up my email. he stares at me intently with a half-smile on his face.

"it seems like everyday i see you rushing through the door."

i note his tremendous skill in the art of stating the obvious as i turn my attention to the task of deleting the spammed and forwarded emails in my inbox.

"that's cuz everyday i'm rushing through the door." i had to pull 'miss sarcastic' into action early this day. karembe's smile grows in response. damn, he's a pretty attractive dude...who's starting to remind me of the guy who stalked me back in the day. my stomach muscles tighten as i remember that time with no fondness whatsoever and realize i've gotta get this cat out of my office. i look around, exasperation shaping my face because for once, i have no mountain of work on any of the work surfaces, which means i can't tell him i have a shitload of work to get to.

"so what are your plans for today?" he asks me as he leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms. oh snap...he's getting comfortable. i need to nip this quick before he decides to pull up a seat and then i'll never get started with my day.

"well, i figure i'd work a little," i start slowly, my eyes on the monitor as i began forming a strategy in my mind for how to get rid of this guy, "then i'll work a little more."

"i plan on doing the same thing," he responds, and i had to stifle the 'duh' fighting to escape my lips.

"uh, that's good," i said instead, cuz even though i am feeling uncomfortable with his attention, he's not a bad dude. i don't want him to feel bad. then hatin' heffa walks past my door, glancing at karembe and then me as she does so. i know now i have to get rid of him immediately, cuz that chick has a way of making the gathering of two negros seem like terr.ori.sts pl.ott.ing when she relays it to my boss (which i know she will).

"so you are doing okay?" he inquires, curiosity lining his voice like silk in a warm wool blazer. at that same time my stomach starts cramping. i frown. what's that about?

"i was up until just now," i reply, now feeling a slight pain in my lower back.

he pulls his form from the doorframe and steps towards me, concern in his eyes as his brow puckers.

"are you alright? do you need me to get you anything?"

my stomach begins rumbling at this point and i fight against the urge to double over. i start to panic a little. i look at him and close my eyes against the pain.

"i need to get to the restroom," i say to him, the words leaving my mouth in limpid bursts of sound.

"let me help you." he leans over and gently places his arm around my waist. the cramping gets worse and my body is starting to feel as though it is going to implode into itself. i let him help me up and we slowly begin making our way to the restroom. luckily, it isn't that far away and we make it there in no time. by the time i get to the bathroom stall, i can feel something making its way to my ass and i know i have to get to that toilet as soon as possible cuz whatever it is isn't gonna wait. i quickly pull down my pants and panties and unload. it is not cute. fecal matter explodes from my ass like a cannon blast and it is loud and repetitive. i keep flushing and flushing and every time i think i'm done another wave hits my ass and i'm at it again. it seems like this shit is never gonna end. i'm in there at least twenty minutes. i'm feeling rather weak and a little more than a little embarrassed by the time i wash and dry my hands and make my way to the door, but i'm sure i've been in there long enough for karembe to realize i needed some time to handle mine. he had to be gone by now.

i opened the door.

and bump right into him.

awww DAMN!

"are you alright?"

i wasn't sure what i should say. i mean, this cat has just heard me engage in the shit battle to end all shit battles. he's heard the farts and the plops and the flushes and he's still right here. coupled with the farting episode he witnessed (i think) this cat is now more intimate with the workings of my ass than guys i've dated for months. for some reason, that knowledge makes me feel closer to him. plus, the look on his face was one of concern, not disgust.

"i'm better now," i replied weakly, "i think it was something i ate."

he said nothing. he just places his hand around my waist and helps me back to the office. i don't really need his help at this point as i am getting stronger by the minute, but he is being chivarous and who am i to discourage the dude?

back in the office, i sit down and smile up at him. he smiles back.

"thanks, karembe."

"you are welcome."

and then he leaves.

and i wonder if perhaps i'm being too hard on the brotha...

can i get more fries with that?

if these mcfuckas expect to delude me into thinking i'm seeing thirty fries in this box, then they either need to take my glasses or put in filler crumbs around these ten fries like they do at lon.g joh.n silv.ers so i'm at least fooled by the camaflouge!

i had ordered a double cheeseburger and a large order of fries. when i got the bag and looked inside, i saw my burger and a large box that had about ten fries in it. i pulled the box out of the bag and saw the paltry offering of fries peeking at me from the curved lip of the box and got pissed. the box looked like anorexic cardboard with the last dregs of vomit dangling from its mouth. what da fuck? i stuck my hand inside the bag and felt around to see if maybe the rest of the fries had fallen to the bottom. no such luck. turns out these mcfuckas had stuck ten fries in a box that could easily hold thirty fries or more and thought to convince me i was getting a full order of fucking fries. 1.35 (1.42 with tax) bought me ten fucking fries. that's 14 cents a damn fry. that's an expensive sliver of fried spud right there. for that amount of money they should be serving those fries in tiff.any boxes.

and this shit's a conspiracy, too. it doesn't matter what fast food joint i go, i'm still gonna get ten fries with a large order. last week i got the shaft in serving from those royalpricks. i thought these two franchises were supposed to be competitive? how come they serving their people the same way? maybe it's stipulated in the universal training manual that the fry guy gotta individually tuck ten fries in each box like each spud is a flower to be arranged decoratively for the maximum visual effect. that's not what i see though. what i see is ten fries swimming in a box with too much space in it and not enough damn fries in it. that's not honest business practice right there. their advertising is false cuz the pictures on the commercials and on the menues show boxes bursting to overflowing with neatly stacked, golden yellow fries. meanwhile, most times folk get a skeletal looking fry box with only a few soggy broken fries crammed into its belly.

a couple of weeks ago i tried to be slick. i decided to order a small fry, figuring if i'm only gonna get ten fries i might as well pay the appropriate price for the ten damn fries i'm getting. when i got the bag with my order in it and pulled out the smaller bag holding my fries, i realized the fast food industry was a step ahead of me. in the bag were four fries. FOUR FUCKING FRIES. 79 cents (82 cents with tax) bought me four fries. that's twenty cents a fry. dude, if i'm paying twenty cents a fry one of those fries better jump from the box and suck on my titty or lick a clit or be a surrogate womb for my future kids. SOMETHING. really...there is a guy out there getting offered TWO blowjobs for that price by a toothless chick willing to swallow. now THAT'S what i call a DEAL.

and the kicker of it all is, i've never once complained to the people giving me the shaft over the fries. why? well, considering i'm a chick with a little more than a little meat on her bones, i can't help but think that if i demand they give me my entire order of fries i'm gonna look like a glutton. i can see that shit now...

"uh...can i get some more fries in this box?"

"what you need more fries for? it looks like you can afford to miss a few fries. in fact, judging from the width of your ass i'd suggest you hand me back that double cheeseburger and order yourself a salad."

is that what they're banking on as they toss a couple of fries into the box and drop it nonchalantly into the bag? do they know that most folk won't demand more than what's given because of how greedy we might appear to be if we do? i wouldn't doubt it. think about it. many folk in american society have been conditioned to simply accept what's given in the form of service, even if the service is shady. if folk demand what they're supposed to get, then we're being greedy. that's some warped shit. it's kinda like going to the place where they say you can have it your way...only it better be within reason dictated by them or you're asking too much.

maybe they do it to condition folk into thinking the box is half-full instead of half-empty, a manipulation of the brain so that people will see the world as an optimist rather than a pessimist. this theory makes sense for me because the mcfuckas and royalpricks are big businesses notorious for their mistreatment of employees and the fucking up of the environment. if they can convince you to see the box as half full, you'll have no problem seeing their low wages as "a whole lot more money than the person would get as a pandering homeless person" or their screwing with the environment as little more than "the taking down of a couple of trees in the name of progress." shit, they're probably the reason why folk see the invasion of iraq as a 'humanitarian mission'. i mean, that's about as optimistic as a person can get.

maybe they don't want the taste of the fries to overwhelm that of the 'dry grade d burger with cheese and limpid lettuce and tomato on a sesame 'seen better days' bun'. wait...i should be demanding a better burger too! or maybe they're trying to force you to go somewhere else! maybe the same folk who own the fast food joints also own the cash cow restaurants that charge 15 bucks for a burger platter, which is nothing more than a burger with fries on a plate, because really, if it read as 'burger and fries on a plate' on the menu, nobody would pay 15 bucks for it.

either way, getting a box with only half the fries in it is symptomatic of a society that has become aiight with half-assing in all aspects, confident its citizens won't ask for more because we're concerned with how we'd look by doing so.

hey...i can blame my lack of a promotion on the mcfuckas. THEY'RE the reason i haven't asked for a raise. if i can be aiight with half an order then i must be fine with half a fucking check for my efforts, right? damn...i need to drop the fries and develop a backbone...

i'm gonna start today...by demanding i get the fries i paid for. i gotta start small. it's way easier to make demands of a drive-through worker than it is to make demands of my boss, the guy responsible for making sure i keep the money to pay for the roof over my head. then i'll work my way up to asking the gas station attendant to show me proof that i'm really paying only 2.99 a gallon for gas when the total makes me believe i'm paying 3.29 a gallon. from there, i could even entertain the prospect of actually sending my senator a letter demanding he stop making those gawd awful commercials with him holding a puppy talking about why he's right for the job of protecting our interests in washington. i mean, what the fuck does the puppy have to do with politics?

SHIT...why stop there?!? if i can get up enough courage to demand my fries, i could ultimately be able to go to the big house in dc and demand dub.ya let me use his bathroom! and THEN i'll ask for my promotion.

AWWW SHIT! i might end up with a backbone after all!

and if it's comprised solely of fried french cut potato spuds, so be it. at least i'll never go hungry. that is, unless the folk responsible for the implant is those mcfuckas. then i'll have to get through life with only ten fries for a spine.

a new day, beautiful

"it's a beautiful day!
don't let it get away..." - u2

6:40 a.m. - i awake to a newborn day and cradle it in my arms, watching the sunrise in its smile. it begins with a blush flushing its cheeks with a peach stain before the day yawns sleepily and gifts me with a full-blown grin. its mouth opens to reveal a golden orb of warmth and light reflecting its innocent essence. as rays of its laughter kiss my face in incandescent giggles, i undo the latch on the window and throw it open. gathering the day closer to my bosom, i close my eyes and deeply inhale its nascent scent of dew dusted grass, feeling the warm breeze of its breath feather across my body and brush away the last particles of slumber from my muscles.

6:45 a.m. - sitting down to the computer, i'm loathe to turn it on. the tornado within me has been especially destructive lately, tossing my emotions around in a violent swirl of unnatural disaster before they crashed and shattered into barbed entries upon my blog. i'd been picking up pieces of friendships destroyed in its aftermath over the last couple of days, cutting myself in the process, leaving new wounds i'd have to salve with different remedies. but i could no longer dwell on old days, the children of father time i'd aged prematurely into withered periods of bitterness. their hours, diseased with my fury, had been full of cancerous conversations that had turned everyone involved into negative reflections of positive intentions. i am determined to bury those old days with the dignity i didn't afford them when they were among the living, so i turn on the computer, gather his words of red annoyance, and take them to bury alongside the now dead days existing in the cemetery of my past. the tombstone reads:

"here lies days dead ofter a diet of bitter swills and the remains of his anger after a clashing of killer wills"

i plant flowers of closure to grow above the resting place, their soft petals absent of hard feelings.

6:50 a.m. - the water is freckled on the face of the bathroom tile and i am standing beneath the spray of hot droplets, thanking god for granting me a new day and for allowing me the water to wash from my skin the stench of discontent i'd worn as a layer of dirt upon my clothes during those dead days. i close my eyes and consume the darkness into my mind, hopeful my other senses could assist me in cleansing my spirit of the toxins eating away at its essence. tipping my head back, i open my mouth to imbibe of the water, a rain of rejuvenation as it hits my mouth in pinpoints of warmth and accumulates into a drink of god's will sliding down my throat. it floods every molecule of me, soaking my being with an invited fire i need to burn away the last of the dead days baggage. i remain a figure framed in spray until my skin lays wrinkled, the rivulets of my melancholy finally discending down the drain, leaving behind my shivering mass of titties and ass to ascend without burden from the shower stall.

7:15 a.m. - i'm on my way to work at an earlier time than usual. it's not because i want to work.

i want to write about the birth of a new day from the ashes of old pain
i want to write about the the burying of old loss in the wake of new gain
i want to write about the mending of old fractures
so that i can heal whole and new again

a new day
beautiful

it won't get away from me this time...

nigga please...

how many of you out there know my biz? want to know why you don't? cuz discretion is important, especially in blogland where the biz can spread fast. i know i write alot of shit in my blog and i get real candid about that shit too from time to time. meanwhile, i keep my personal life as personal as possible. i might wax poetic about a brotha i'm feeling at the time, might talk about how much i wanna fuck him or something, might discuss my mother's alcoholism, my own problems with my self-image, but i never, EVER get specific enough by naming names or some shit like that.

there's a reason for that shit too. it's called showing respect for the privacy of others. you will never hear from my lips who i'm digging or whether or not he's digging me because that's fucking NUNYA.

i just recently found myself in a situation that escalated without me even knowing there was an issue. this is the second fucking time i find myself embroiled in some shit involving the same fucking folk and it made me realize how necessary it is to really extricate myself from folks space. some folk just bring shit with them and somehow, some kind of fucking way, that shit ends up right on my doorstep. then my actions get misunderstood and assumptions are made instead of just checking with me to see what the deal is.

well i'm fucking tired of explaining myself as if i've done something wrong. if you need proof of my sincerity check my fucking blog. if you need clarity on what i'm about, check my fucking blog. and if you got questions about my shit, check with ME. i keep that shit real and POSITIVE. you won't see me dissing folk because of what they wear, you won't see me writing about so and so blogger and how he/she is fucked up. you won't see me passing judgement on folk and calling them something disrepectful just cuz they behave in a way i don't agree with as i recognize everybody got their struggle and who the fuck am i to judge that shit? they do them. i do me. that's how that shit goes in my world. you WILL see me holding myself accountable for the shit i do cuz that's what fucking grown folk do. i won't hate on others. i recognize whatever goes on with me is of my own fucking doing, not someone elses. in this case, i'm in this situation cuz i made the choice to surround myself with folk who weren't on the same page of no drama as i am. that's my fault, which is why the extrication is taking place posthaste.

when i praise your shit it's sincere, cuz i love the written word and appreciate those talented enough to make that shit sing. when i give you encouragement that shit is real because i have my own struggles and fucking appreciate those who get up everyday to face theirs and are courageous enough to share their struggles and triumphs with the rest of us. if you can't see that shit by now, that's on you. if you think it better to not get the whole story and roll with what you're feeling, again you gotta do you. meanwhile, i'm pissed the fuck off i even gotta devote blog space to this shit, as i haven't had any beef with anybody (and still don't as far as i'm concerned), but my fucking integrity is at stake and i'll be damned if i sit silently and get ripped.

i've said my piece now and won't be addressing this shit ever again. either you feeling me or you don't. either you dig my words or you don't. if you don't, there's a nice, conveniently placed 'x' sitting in the upper right hand corner of your monitor. you can click that shit and erase my ass from your screen as though i never existed in your hemisphere and go on with your life as though i was little more than a blip on your fucking screen.

i don't want to, nor do i feel as though i have to change my shit because i've nothing to be ashamed of as far as my actions here are concerned. i ain't trying to hurt anyone's feelings here. that's never been my purpose. i write what i feel and try to enlighten, entertain, and uplift folk when i can. meanwhile, what you fucking see is what you fucking get.

how you interpret that shit is on you.

the end. and i mean that shit.

how the fuck i look?

how the fuck i look running away from that shit?

how the fuck i look letting some shit like that affect me?

how the fuck i look being envious?

how the fuck i look shedding a tear over that?

how the fuck i look letting him affect my writing like that?

how the fuck i look not blogging cuz i didn't want to face myself? or him? or her?

how the fuck i look blaming him and them for my discontent?

how the fuck i look giving ANYBODY the kind of power to erase the words from my fingers before my thoughts could spill from them?

how the fuck i look doubting my own strength, my own resillience, my own straight up, bonafide, grade a unwillingness to fold under the pressure of life's challenges?

how the fuck i look doubting my own appeal, doubting whether or not i'm worth loving, doubting whether a brotha could find satisfaction with my beauty, my intelligence, my wit, my fire, my compassion, my sexiness, my candor, my (insert other amazing things about nikki right here)?

hold up...let me ask that one again...

how the FUCK i look doubting my own appeal, doubting whether or not i'm worth loving, doubting whether a brotha could find satisfaction with my beauty, my intelligence, my wit, my fire, my compassion, my sexiness, my candor, my (insert other amazing things about nikki right here)?

how the fuck i look doubting the loved ones around me, the ones who came through in the clutch for me this weekend, even though i was perfectly fine with the idea of locking myself away like a fucking self-pitying coward?

how the fuck i look devoting more of my mind's space and my emotion to a friend i've barely had for half a year when i've got brothas in my life who have been my friend through thick and thick, all the while having consideration for me, listen to my needs, never judge my emotions, analyze and offer solutions to my life's challenges, all cuz they want to see me happy? shit, one of them even wrote ten fucking paragraphs describing ten wonderful things about me because i was feeling down on myself (thanks luv).

how the fuck i look devaluing their friendship by not giving them the importance in my life they deserve?

how the FUCK i look putting my life on hold even for a fucking MINUTE when i've got so much shit to do?

how the fuck i look?!?

i look like a MOTHAFUCKIN FUCKING IDIOT, that's what!

so fuck THAT.

i'm BACK.

going on sabbatical (thx amadeo)

i know this is kind of sudden, but i've gotta leave blogland for a while. gotta clear my head and my heart of a few things and refocus my energies on me. my writing has suffered terribly as a result of my inability to cope with some things and therefore, i'm gonna force myself to get over them, but that means i can't be here.

i'll be back in a week or two. i'll continue to read your blogs. you will continue to inspire me daily. i'll be back brand new and stronger for the mental and physical bootcamp i'm about to put myself through.

oh, and in the meanwhile, check out this girl bluebutterfli if you haven't already. her writing is exquisite, and it's made even more so by the life altering experience she's going through right now. she writes with a candor and emotional vulnerability that will no doubt move you through to the marrow.

keep doing ya thing, and i'll check you lataz.

nikki

i need a tag

i've got an epic in me but it's not finished and i'm too focused on it to put effort into something else, so i need a meme to do today. someone help a sista out by tagging her. thank you very much :)

the book of j.

he speaks to me in silent sound
in dreamless sleep his thoughts are bound
i yearn to read his words within
as where he ends, so i begin...

chapter one - bite me...

the sour citrus of his orange sarcasm left a sticky residue of resonance on my fingers as i peeled back his pages and bit into his insight. i chewed upon his prose, the wit exploding in tangy text upon my tongue, and reveled in the flavor of him penetrating the buds on my tongue with the throughness of a sensual carnal entry. his taste made me greedy as i began feverishly stuffing my mouth with entire passages of pulp until my belly was full from his substance. afterwards, i lay sated, sucking his piquant syntax from my fingers with the thoroughness of a woman licking her man's dick clean of all remnants of his orgasmic aftermath.


chapter two - vitamin see...

at times he was a red read, branding the pages with the crimson pigmentation of his acrimony's imprint. pinching the corners, i singed my fingers, my eyes intent upon the motivation of his agitation, a smokescreen he erected to lead the reader into focusing only on the fumes of his facade. i was desperate to know him, and so i sought the answers in the words. i deciphered his anger's language and the smoke disappeared, revealing his emaciated form folded fetal in between the smoldering lines. i gained sight into myself by finding him and he grew stronger in the absence of the choking faux smoke he thought was protecting him. the context of his pages now illuminated his audience with a flame existing from within him instead of in front of him. his tenacity was revealed in the rendering of his tenderness, his courage uncovered in the revelation of his sensitivity.


chapter three - he is set free...

he is no longer bound within a book, his pages vulnerable to the careless treatment of other fingers. his movement into new chapters of his life is no longer incited by someone else's curiosity. i now see his words etched upon everything around me. the poems expressing his desire is stitched into my panties, caressing my ass and the lips of my lust with whispers of his wicked intentions. the prose telling me of his passion is tattooed into my skin, symbols of a lover's language inked into permanent design covering me from nipples to clit with fine lines of urgent burning. the paragraphs of his aspirations are inscribed upon the surface of the sky with pens dipped in sun fire, the rays of his dreams bringing light to corners of my conscious once darkened with despair. he is his words...and they are all beautiful...



he speaks to me in more than sound
his dreams, they are no longer bound
his words exist both out and in
as where this ends, so 'we' begin...

forgive me

the pain has stifled my creative process. i've started so many entries in the last day my head is spinning. i won't pretend everything is aiight cuz it's not. she was drunk last night. i cried inside watching her. i'm losing her. i don't know what to do. i feel so fucking HELPLESS. i just want my mom back, not this person whose every third word is slurred, whose speech is drowning in wine and can only salvage a couple of detached syllables in her as she attempts to complete a sentence. her eyes were glassy, like she didn't even know i was there, and yet there were moments, precious seconds, when she was lucid enough to recognize me.

what the fuck am i going to do? i'm desperate. i can't lose her. she's the only mom i've got. i want her to be happy and she's not. i can't force her into a program. i've seen how ineffective it is to force someone into doing something they don't want to do. right now she doesn't think her spirit is worth saving. she doesn't see her body as a temple. she sees it as a trashcan and she's deliberately throwing bottles of wine into it, watching with glee as the glass shatters and cuts through her internal organs, severing her sanity away from her senses.

i can't blackmail her into getting help. i know she loves me but i can't use that love against her like that. she has to love herself enough and i can't be the one to convince her. i've watched her for years tear herself down slowly, the bottles of crow.n ro.yal stacking beneath her bed or in her bureau or some other place she thought to hide her habit. she always had a job, always pays her bills on time. she's responsible enough to where her problem hasn't made her homeless but her problem has made her spiritless. it's made her this sad version of what happens when a person doesn't value herself enough to want to seek out her dreams. dreams are so fucking important. they give our lives purpose. they give our lives meaning.

she doesn't have any dreams. she gave up on them years ago. she gave up on life years ago. she's so eager to retire from her job and i'm afraid when she does she's gonna die, cuz it might be a fucked up job but she HAS to get up. she gotta wake up every morning to go to work. she might not like that purpose but she's forced to do it. once she retires, what incentive will she have for waking up? will she find the world that comes with her closing her eyes more appealing? will she think she's better off not being here?

is just loving her enough? i love her so much and it hasn't been enough so far. will her love for me be enough for her to want to stick around? i can't keep watching her slowly kill herself like this.

every breath taken brings us closer to death
every second ending brings us closer to death
every heartbeat striking brings us closer to death

everyday i watch my mom run towards death as though it's her solace from living. i want to run away but i can't. i can't leave her. whoever she is right now, i can't leave her. i live for those brief moments when i see a glimpse at her true spirit, when the laughter comes easy and wasn't induced by drink, when the sharing of experience comes truthfully and wasn't siphoned through a glass of wine, when the emitting of emotion comes sincerely and wasn't offered after a cup of courage.

i don't want the sorrow to win.
i don't want the anger to win.
i don't want the despair to win.

but she's drinking as if she has nothing to lose. maybe she feels as though she never had anything to lose.

what does that make me? doesn't she know how much i need her? doesn't she realize just how fucking beautiful and intelligent and gifted and giving and funny and fucking valuable she is to everyone who loves her? how many times do i have to tell her? is she even listening?

"...And you, my [mother], there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

i want you to fight, mom. i want you to fucking FIGHT. i've got your back, mom. i will fucking drop whatever i'm doing and be there. if you need me there with you all day everyday until you win this battle i'll fucking do it.

i just want you back. i just want you back.

i just want my mom back damnit.

happy birthday to me and happy get pissed at nikki day to you

this past year has been rather monumental for me. i've experienced loss with the death of my two uncles, including my favorite. i've connected with new folk and disconnected with old folk, realized i am my biggest obstacle, figured out the truth is the only thing that matters and that love is only good when it's shared.

this is an open letter to a number of folk who have come through my life in the past year. i figure it's important to get some things off of my mind so that i can have a clean slate as i enter my next year of living, so here goes...

a. - i know i don't tell you enough, but just know that i love you more than life. you have been the one constant through my life, the one person i know i can turn to no matter what. you know all of my secrets and you love me despite my flaws. i could never ask for a better brother because he simply does not exist. i thank god every day for being blessed with you in my life.

s. - i was so afraid of you when i first met you because i knew it was important we got along. i'm so glad i got over my fear so that i could know you better. i love you.

j. - i wish i could be there with you right now because i know you need me. there will never be enough words to express your importance in my life. it is because you are here that i am here. it is because of your strength and determination to persevere that i am afforded the great example of what a strong woman is. i know i won't have you in my life much longer, but i will make sure you know how much i love you every damn day until you're no longer here in the flesh.

c. - i just want to say i love you. i understand you as others don't and although your actions are frustrating right now, i know what they stem from. i only hope that one day you recognize your own self-worth and stop other folks from killing your spirit. you are still beautiful in my eyes. i will love you no matter what and i will always have your back. don't ever doubt it.

b. - i really wish you would stop drinking as much as you do. you think i don't see the wine stains on the bottom of your cups, but i do. you think i don't smell it on your breath, but i do. you think because i haven't checked you for it lately that i'm cool with it, but i'm not. i will always love you but know that every time you drink, i see a little piece of you wafting away on alcohol fumes. eventually there won't be anything of you left. i miss who you used to be and pray one day i see that person again.

r. - why are you enabling her with her drinking? do you do it because you need a drinking partner? do you do it because you don't want to feel so bad about your own drinking issues? i'm not sure what the reason is but i wish you would stop that shit. if you aren't happy with your life, do something about it. don't just keep drinking as though you can drown your unhappiness away cuz that shit just ain't gonna happen. i'll always love you too, but it pains me to see you behave in a way that will almost certainly guarantee i'll be taking care of you when you get older cuz you will have drank away any strength your body has.

a. - i know i let you down this year but i ask you to be patient with me. you call me all the time and i see your number in the phone and don't pick it up because i'm so ashamed of the fact that i've let you down. that shit ain't right and i'm a fucking coward for doing so. i promise to check myself on that immediately. i know you need me and i have to be there for you, even if i can't fight all of your battles for you, at least i can make sure you have someone to listen to you and tell you it's gonna be aiight. and it's gonna be aiight.

l. - i wasted so much time in the last year when we could have been hanging out. i know you wanted to hang with me more and i put you on the backburner. i see you growing up and i fear we won't be as close as we used to be and the fucked up part about it is i know it's my fault. i want to be a part of your life. i want you to know that i'm someone you can depend on. i will do a better job of being there for you.

j. - i know how you feel about me and i wish i felt the same because it would make shit so much easier for the both of us. we've been friends for so long i can't even see you that way. know that despite this, i still think you're sexy, intelligent, compassionate, and appealing. you're just not the guy for me. i want us to remain friends and i'm glad you haven't dropped from my life after our talk. you are extremely important to me.

t. - dude, you know i love you like a brother. really, i do. you and i have been tight for almost twenty years and your love and support of me has gotten me through some really tough times. you are such a great person, which is why i don't understand why you fucking up your shit. i won't put you on blast, but you know that shit ain't cool. how can you expect me to remain your friend when you continue to do something that i'm morally set against? i know you want me to be your friend and not judge you, but it's unfair for you to expect me to set aside what i believe in just because you're my best friend. then again, unconditional love is supposed to be just that, unconditional. this ain't an easy situation for me to be in, but i love you enough to remain your friend. in the meanwhile, i'm still gonna be the voice of your conscience, so don't think just cuz i'm not gonna end our friendship that i'm gonna not tell you when you're fucking up. oh...YOU FUCKING UP.

c. - you've been my girl for years now and i can't imagine not having you as my friend. i know i've been incognegro lately but know it's not because i think any less of you. i've had my issues to deal with and it's hard sharing my problems with others. that doesn't mean you're not a good friend to me. it means i have my way of coping and unfortunately it doesn't include talking about my problems with others. i hope you understand because i love you dearly and really need your spirit in my life.

d. - you've tried so hard to make this work and i wish it could have worked out because when it's all said and done, there are few folk who have been there for me as you have. you have always respected me, appreciated me, loved me in a way that others covet. i have always respected and appreciated you, but i haven't loved you the way you deserve to be loved. i really, really want to. it would be the end to all of my problems. i just can't. you are an amazing guy, but i don't think we're right for each other. we'd been together for so long it became comfortable, like a pair of well-worn jeans. however, relationships aren't just about comfort, they're about evolution as people and being strong enough sustain through the changes. i can't evolve with you. you want to be the same person in ten years that you are today and i ain't mad at it. meanwhile, i'm looking to be a different person next month, feel me? love is everlasting AND dynamic. i want that and unfortunately i can't see that with you. i still love you tremendously and want you in my life. i hope one day that will happen but i understand if it won't.

j. - we've been talking for the last couple of months and i think you're simply amazing. we have so many things in common and i think we could really be good for each other (actually, we already are...). i just don't know where you're coming from at times. i thought i was close-lipped about stuff but you're even worse than i am. it's hard to maintain a connection with you when you're so quiet. howevver, we understand each other so well because we really are a reflection of each other. i will continue to challenge you if you continue to do the same for me. it's amazing that we find common ground on issues on which we are so opposite in belief and our association has taught me the necessary skill of being able to agree to disagree. i'm telling you this though...discussion is a two-way street. don't expect me to always be the one to bring up shit. if you wanna talk, you know where i'm at and you know i'm willing to share everything with you. oh...and what you did the other day? i still don't think that shit was cool. you still cool with me though.

h. - you've been an amazing friend to me over the last ten months. your tributes to me simply blow me away because i know they all come from the heart and that's all a sista can ask for. i know you're going through hardship right now but know that things won't be this difficult forever. i got your back. i hope you know that.

p. - our chemistry is combustible and if it had been any other time in my life i would have been willing to see where it led. i'm sorry if i hurt you because i know you were feeling me and i was right there with you. you are without doubt one of the most awe-inspiring brothas i've ever met. i just know that at this point in my life it's important for me to get myself together before i embark on something serious. i don't expect you to wait for me. i want you to find someone to be with, someone who is better prepared to accept all that you have to offer. when i'm ready, don't be surprised if i come knocking on your door. i still remember you teaching me how to play chess. that was the sexiest shit i've ever experienced and it was because you turned me on with your mental strategy. you knew that too. i gotta say this...your kisses took my breath away.

r. - we've already discussed just how fucked up things played out earlier. i have to tell you just how hurt i was at the way you ended up treating me. i know it all comes down to the reality of how you felt about me but that shit still hurt. for a while i felt as though i wasn't good enough for you, as though no matter how great a person i am that i wasn't good enough to be the one you wanted to be with. now i realize i was feeling an illusion and not reality. the illusion was that i was into someone who was into me with the same intensity but your actions showed me i was wrong. it still rankles me how it played out because it seems so unfinished. i love having you as a friend and value your insight, but i'm beginning to think this friendship is detrimental to my health because no matter how connected we are, it will never be more than friendship and there is jut a little part of me that wishes it was different which is ironic because the fact is that we really aren't right for each other. we're good for each other, but not right for each other. i gotta pull away from you for a while. i need folk in my life who don't unconsciously hurt me. it's not your fault. you have to do you and i'm really happy for you. now i have to do me. you'll always have my friendship, but for the time being it's gonna be from a distance. i hope you understand, but the only way i can truly gain freedom from these feelings is to cut you off for a while.

d. - i know you're still trying to get me fired but that shit won't work. they need me too much and no matter what you try to do, you're too fucking incompetent for them to get rid of me. you think anyone can come in and do my job? why not check your daily tasks and see how many of them would get done if i wasn't around. YOU fucking need me, so get over your petty jealousy and latent racism and let's keep this shit professional. i'd hate to have pull of my earrings, take off my glasses, and kick your fucking ass, but i'll do it if you think you can keep fucking with me this way. i'll be smart about it though...i won't kick your ass until i have another gig lined up.

to all my blog fam - i appreciate all of the encouragement, positive feedback, support, insightful dialogue and straight up love you bring to my blog. you are so important to me, more than you'll ever know. it is because of you and your beautiful spirit that i'm able to make it through many of my days (especially recently, when i find myself seeking your strength in your blogs). know you are a valued part of my life and i have a very deep affection for you. thank you for sharing your lives with me and for allowing me to share mine with you.

happy birthday to me...