why is it so hard?

i love deen. god (if there is one) knows how much. but i'm exhausted. for the record i NEVER set out to be insulting, however, other parties want to say that they were insulted. i never even got the chance to apologize. if my intention was to air dirty laundry, believe me, there is quite a LONG list of dirt for me to dish out. but like i said that wasn't my intention. hell, if i wanted to be insulting, it truly wouldn't be that hard for me. i've never been the one to be challenged or to back down easily. if you want to talk to me, how about an invitation instead of just popping the hell up and DEMANDING to see me? being overbearing didn't work then and it sure as hell isn't going to work now. i've gotten my ass kicked for not bending easily and other times i've been victorious and admired for it. people hate me. i know it. do i care? hell no. for those that know and love me, they'll tell you that i'm honest, loyal, goofy, and loving. it hurts me to know that people have managed to distance themselves from my SON just because they have a problem with me. its fucked up. its okay though. i've been physically threatened, dragged to court, had my name dragged through the mud and through it all, i've wanted was peace. for people that feel that i'm such a bad person and whatever else, its all good. i know me, i know my heart, i know my intentions, and most importantly i know that i love my son. you are well within your right to distance yourself from him because you have a problem with me, but whether you like it or not I AM AND ALWAYS WILL BE HIS MOTHER.
hopefully those fools won't even see this. deen actually logged into my ACCOUNT and deleted my last couple of blogs and the one about us dating. little does he know that i've still got the one about us dating saved, and my plan is to repost it soon. i actually had to change up my profile info just to avoid these cats. this shit is insane. most of yall that check in here are writers also so you can imagine how mad i was to have my intimate thoughts destroyed just because someone that had no damned business reading my shit was doing that anyway. my head hurts. i'm tired. i just want someone to hold me. anyone but deen.

the gift and the curse

i've got a secret. okay, i don't really do secrets, but i'll say that i've got a confession. i talk to the dead. well, they talk to me. it started like this: on june 13, 1998 (the morning of my high school graduation) my cousin passed away. my dad and i flew up to her funeral while my sister and my mother drove up to jersey for it. dad dropped me off at my house while i waited for moms and sis to get back. as i unpacked my bag i looked up at the picture over my bed and i saw her staring back at me- my dead cousin, tracy. i pinched myself, i rubbed my eyes. i told myself that it wasn't her, but the fact is in the place where my face should have been in that mirror was instead the face of my dead cousin. time went on and i missed her. at times i'd be watching tv in my room and it would randomly turn off on its own. i knew it was her, i just didn't want to think about it.

one day while i was watching montel williams he had silvia brown there, telling the audience how to communicate with the dead. she said to turn off everything and just listen. so that's what i did. i turned off the television and i heard my cousin tell me that she's there with our grandmother that passed before i was born, that she wasn't there with her cousin, that she loves everyone, and that she's not concerned about how she looked in her casket (i should backtrack and say that my cousin looked absolutely hideous in a powder blue lacey dress and her hair was in some kind of curly mess). hearing those things from her brought me a lot of peace. but strangely enough i heard something else afterward. i heard "sebastian, uncle, father, brother james, sebastian, james, uncle, father, brother, sebastian, james." the only person i knew named sebastian was my friend, dj scorpio, but only scorp's close friends and family call him his birth name. who was this spirit? and how the hell did it know scorpio? i thought it was his father that died when scorp was 3. i meant to ask him about it but i kept forgetting. one day in my car i thought back on that and reminded myself to ask scorp about the "james" person. i asked aloud if it was his father. and i heard the word "uncle" repeating in my head. later on i said to scorp, "this may sound weird, but do you have a dead relative named james?" and scorp replied "yeah." and then i said "who was he?" and scorp said that james was his uncle. then i asked how james was his uncle. scorp told me that james was his father's brother. i wanted to pass out. how the hell did i know that?! scorp stared at me blankly and was unphased. but i'd just randomly had a friend's dead relative contact me, tell me his name, tell me how he was related to my friend.
next up, a friend of mine had the misfortune of having her mother pass away on christmas eve. some years later, i got a "message" from the mother that she wanted me to pass on to her daughter- she died on christmas eve and not christmas because she didn't want her daughter to associate christmas day with her death. she was also proud at how hard her daughter worked to support herself (the family is from haiti and my friend sends money back to her poor family regularly). my friend is a nurse that works several jobs leads a pretty financially stable life. anyway, her mother is quite proud of who her daughter became and she's still with her. i called my friend and started with "this may sound weird but i got a message from your mother..." i expected her to be like "what the hell are you talking about?! that shit is crazy!" but my friend told me that she believed that her mother said those things because that sounded exactly like something she would say and if i got any other messages from her mother, feel free to call her and let her know. the funny thing is that when i get a "message" from someone i get more amazed than the receiver when the message is eerily familiar to them.

in another case, the cousin of my friend was killed by police up in boston. one day i got a message from the cousin. it kept saying "grandma." i had never met the cousin at all. i called my friend and asked if the cousin was close to his grandmother and my friend replied that yes, they were close. i said well, "i got a message from your cousin and he's with his grandmother, please let her know." my friend said he didn't know if he wanted to pass on the message to his grandmother since she was a religious freak. what could i do? i was only the messenger. a while later i got a feeling from the cousin that he liked the color blue and he was into basketball. i asked my friend about those things and sure enough, the cousin liked blue and basketball. i asked if he'd passed on the message to his grandmother. he hadn't and he had no plans to do so. *sigh* well, at least i'd held up my end of the bargain.

the most eerie occurence happened with my homegirl's boyfriend's father. the father died and she called to tell me. she didn't want me to mention that his father had passed away so i didn't. we went to meet up with him and so help me, i could see the energy of his father with him. it was a soft light standing right next to him. i later got a message from the father. well it wasn't even a message. it was more of a vibe. he struck me as a man of few words. he was a strong communicator, but he was silent. he loved his kids. he was in a better place. he raised his son to be a man and he didn't want him to be sad. i can't really remember what the rest was. i told my homegirl that i've got the "gift" i don't really tell people about it unless it comes up and/or i have a message because frankly i get tired of people thinking that i'm crazy. anyway i told her that i have a message from the father and after thinking for a minute, she decided to tell her boyfriend and he got on the phone with me. i told him that i saw/felt his father with him when i saw him and i told him what i knew. that he was a silent man, strong communicator, better place, etc. he seemed kinda blank and thanked me. she called me later and said something that shocked the hell out of me. his father was silent because he'd had a tracheotomy. she didn't know that and nor did i until the boyfriend told us. there was absolutely no way for me to know how or why he was silent. scary.

i also passed on to my teacher that his mother was with him. actually i asked him if there was someone in his past who liked to bake, a matronly person. he said yes, his mother. and he went on to desribe her love of baking and keeping a warm kitchen going. i'd already had the picture and the feeling in my head before he even desribed it. i've had a few other incidents like this. my friend was talking about her dad on the anniversary of his death and told her about my gift and i relayed to her how his spirit was. its kind of scary how accurate i was. i told her that he was concerned about her health and he wanted her to monitor it.

in my own life, aside from my cousin, my son's spirit guide "george" was with me while i was pregnant. i don't know much about george. he just came to me and let me know that he was gonna keep an eye on my little booger for me. i know that george comes from deen's mother's side of the family. he was tall and strong and well respected in his community. i feel that he looked a bit like deen, only darker. his life was cut short, but i'm not sure how. he was also a bit of a ladies' man, although his heart was with his wife. i told deen about george and of course deen thinks i'm crazy, but i know that george is with caleb now, which is why i don't feel him anymore. its up to caleb to get to know him now.

the downside is when i try to tell people about their relatives but they're too blinded by religion or fear of the unknown to hear me out. recently i got a "vibe" about my friend's husband. his mother contacted me. her spirit was BEAUTIFUL. so beautiful i was moved to tears. you actually hear people try to label someone as a saint when they aren't but she was wonderful. she was so at peace. i truly hope that everyone could be who and what his mother is and was. i can see why her son was devestated by her loss. i called my friend to let her know to tell hubby that i had a message from his mother. i told her that his mother loved my friend and thinks she's great for him. she's also watching over their small daughter. i wanted to pass on her messages to him so much because i knew it would bring him peace. she called me later and told me that he had no desire to hear a message from his dead mother. i don't understand it. if your life (not him in particular, but anyone) is so messed up from the loss of the person most important to you, why not open your mind and your ears to move on and hear them out?

people sometimes ask me how they can talk to the deceased and i think its simply a skill that you have to hone. you can't hold on to religious philosophy of what is and isn't and you have to be willing to hear what you find out, even if it isn't what you expect. you have to ask questions and in my case, not be afraid to look like a total nutjob when you walk up to people and ask them/tell them about their dead associates. more than anything, just listen. i mean LISTEN. they're always talking to us. they always surround us. just pay attention. many of the crazy and random things that happen in life are the results of the spirit world. sometimes they go out of their way to get attention. i've had spirits throw thing to get my attention. when they do that, i simply say out loud "look, i know that you're here and i don't mind, just respect me and i'll respect you. no throwing knives or anything dangerous and please, for the love of GOD don't appear, that'll scare the hell out of me." and they seriously back up. they may continue to throw things to announce their presence, but as long its not thrown AT me and as long as they don't appear, i don't mind them moving things around.

once my floodgate opened, it was crazy how many people were trying to contact me. i seriously felt like whoopi goldberg in the movie "ghost." they were all talking to me at the same time and everything. i didn't get a moment of rest. at one point i was trying to sleep and i had to literally sit up and tell the spirits that i'd get to them when i could. now they're a lot more respectful and they don't all crowd me, but they do pop up on their own. sometimes i can call them when i want to, othertimes they just start talking to me. my dead cousin once whispered to me that she loves me. i felt the spirit of emmitt till. seriously. he was loud and playful. he's still the same 14 year old boy. wherever his spirit is, he doesn't focus on his ending. he's just the same jovial laughing, playing boy. i can seriously hear him laugh and talk. its kind of cool to know that people that have passed on don't focus on their endings, they focus on their lives. i guess the living could learn a lot from the undead.

i don't know if i believe in god and it scares me

i was raised as a non-practicing christian. we celebrated christmas and easter and that was about it. at the age of 18 i met a wonderful man that was a muslim. he introduced me to a new way of seeing spirituality and the world. from that point on, i considered myself agnostic. i believed in god, but i followed no particular religion. that worked well for me for the past 10 years. but a few months ago, i found myself wanting more. i'd always said that if i followed any particular religion in the future it would either be islam or buddhism. i liked that islam was about inner discipline while buddhism focused on inner peace. i wanted peace. i needed peace. i was so angry about all the stuff my ex put me through for years and then deen and his bullshit that i'd actually become violent against deen. its not something i was proud of but i swear there were times he pushed my buttons in a way that only he could. and i'd punch him. we'd always make up. i hated myself. i'd let 10 years of an emotionally abusive relationship with one idiot plus a 2 year relationship full of lies and jealousy with my son's father turn me into a volatile stranger. the woman that was once about peace and love would suddenly end up putting scratches and whatnot on the father of her child. what happened to me? i needed to center myself. i turned to buddhism.
it helped. i felt better. i didn't yell as much. one of the cool things is that buddhism isn't really a religion, its a philosophy. you can be christian and be buddhist. i was still able to hold on to my view of god being a higher power. because buddha isn't a "god" he's merely the only person (or the first) to reach enlightenment and tell others how to reach it. buddhism worked. i'm a buddhist.
but buddhism didn't answer everything. why did bad things happen to good people? why do good things happen to bad people? if there is a God how can people still suffer? if God really loves us, why would he make us suffer to prove our love and devotion to him? wouldn't that make God a sadist? what kind of person claims that they love you, yet puts you through all kinds of crap, and tells you that as long as you believe in them till the end, you'll be cool once you're DEAD? it made sense to me before, but now it seems kind of silly and impossible. suppose someone had a girlfriend that said "i love you like no other" to her dude. then she then burned down his house. she lent his ear whenever he needed to talk and stuff would be good for a minute. and then she'd get him fired from his job for some crap. but she still lent an ear. and whenever he said to her, "why are you putting me through all of this crap?" she replied with "just keep believing that i love you and eventually when you're DEAD you'll reap the benefit of our relationship." sounds stupid like that, huh? i've had people say to me "well you can't really say there isn't a God because you're in america and stuff could be worse." which brings me to another point. yeah, the government is pretty effed up here, but stuff could be way worse. my son was a whopping 10 lb 9 oz monster. because he was so big, i was unable to deliver him vaginally so i was given a c-section. i later asked a nurse what would have happened if i'd have had the same dilemma in a country that doesn't have as advanced medical care. she replied that the baby and i would have most likely died during birth. yeah, i was lucky, dare i say BLESSED to live in a place where a relatively simple procedure brought my son into the world safely. so what makes me so special that i'm deserving of a huge healthy baby and not women in underdeveloped nations? where was God for them?
when i think about some things its hard not to think there's a higher power looking at us. the light of my life, my son, was created during a simple act with his father. the baby was originally a single cell. and then he was the size of a grain of rice. and then he got bigger. and bigger. and once he was born he continued to grow. now he runs around the house saying "mumma" and "da-da." soon he'll be creating his own single cell. if there is no God, how can something is miraculous happen?
once it occured to me that there may be no God i felt TERRIBLE. i felt like i'd discovered that the only mother that i'd ever known was found to not be my mother. it was like i was adopted. i wondered where i came from. was there really a power that loved me? was i really on my own? it hurt like hell. i cried. i wanted to believe in God. i just didn't know how. no matter how much i wanted it to, it just didn't make sense anymore. i couldn't shake the feeling of knowing that my life is better than that of others (relatively) and i'm no better than anyone else, so why would i get better treatment cosmically?
on the good note, with me thinking that there's no God, i felt in control of my life. suddenly if there's no God to determine how my day is going, i'm the only one that determines it. it was up to me to determine my fate. rather than just blaming the heavens for my misfortune, it was on ME how and where i ended up. it felt good to know that it wasn't up to a random spook how things would go. it was my call.
i wish i could talk about God to people, but here in the south its hard enough to talk about there being a God that had nothing to do with jesus, but when i start talking about there possibly not even being a God people get personally offended. in other places the thought of there being no God may be a tad more accepted but here that's not something to sneeze at. so i'm alone. i wish i could bounce ideas off people, but i'm alone in my spiritual imbalance. is there a God? i don't know. but i wish i did.

why not to get involved with models

i've noticed that i blog about sex a lot and i really don't know why because its not like i'm missing it or anything. but sex is so fascinating. its something that most of us have in common in one way or another. after reading justjasmine's blog (http://aneverendingchase.blogspot.com/) today, i was inspired to share my own story of sexual disappointment. enjoy. because i sure as hell didn't.
i met him at a show that a friend of mine was having. he was cute. damned cute. a model. he was about 6 feet tall, green eyes, perfect body, he had locs that flowed down his back. and although he was a hottie, he really wasn't the kind of guy i normally go for. he was a little too "put together" if you know what i mean. so anyway, he was talking with a mutual friend when i walked up and when the friend left i was surprised that the model continued to talk to me. he's a model, what the hell would he want with me? so while i enjoyed the conversation, i made it a point to not be following the guy around all night. he actually clung to ME. i could not believe that a cute guy like this was actually kind of digging me. we exchanged phone numbers at the end of the night and agreed to hang out later.
we hung later and things were fun. we laughed a lot, talked about our hopes and dreams, he even cooked for me. and i didn't hear from him again. i didn't really sweat it when suddenly i'd call him and never even get a response. so imagine my surpise when i got an invitation to a party that he was throwing, but the invitation came through a mutual friend. i was NOT having it. i had no intentions of seeing the bastard. he couldn't even pick up the phone to invite me? not even. anyway the night of his party my buddy needed a ride there after the club event we were at so i ended up taking him and i decided to stick around for a while. the fucking model (the s.o.b. that hadn't talked to me in a month and didn't even call me to invite me to the party) kept pulling me into his bedroom to kiss me. and it was the worst kiss EVER. don't get me wrong, i'm a kissing slut so i'm always open for a smooch, but if you're gonna pull me away from the party, at least let the kiss be worth it. how can you not open your mouth? i was SO pissed. he kept telling me how nice i looked and trying to put his hand up my skirt. not hearing it.
even though we didn't get down that night, we became cool enough to hang out on occasion. he lived close to the outback steakhouse where i was working and occasionally i'd go by his crib when i got out of work. one night after work i decided to stop by his crib. somehow we got to talking about sex and i gave him a massage as the new alicia keys live cd played in the background. we started kissing. he pulled out a condom. there was NO foreplay. he just started. silence. no moaning. NOTHING. i didn't hear "how are you?" "tell me what you like" "whose is it?!" "what's my name?!" "whose your daddy?!" "put your finger in my ass!" NOTHING. it was him pounding away silently. and about 8 minutes later he just stopped. he just pulled out and walked into the bathroom. i asked if he came and he said yeah. lucky him, because i sure didn't. i left shortly thereafter and felt dirty, cheap and used.
the experience was bad enough but what was really ugly was that after the fact, once again, didn't hear from him. i understand not calling the next day but a week later i didn't hear from him still. i was LIVID. a few weeks later i called a mutual friend and i told her about the experience and she actually went back to him and told him what i'd said. i was ticked that my homegirl shared the info with him.
about 4 months later i ran into him in a club and we talked about the whole experience. he started by saying that i obviously wanted to seduce him since i came to his home without underwear on. i told him that it was simply laundry day, that's why i was missing undies. i also reminded him that i came to his home wearing my outback steakhouse uniform, straight from work. if i was planning to seduce a man i sure wouldn't be wearing that ugly ass uniform, straight from work, hadn't even showered yet, smelling like au jus. he accused me of trying to get next to his friends and coworkers in an attempt to stay close to him. wrong again. the friend who's number i had gotten, i'd originally met at his party before he and i slept together and i had nearly 300 phone numbers in my phone. i'm a social person. i'm able to get someone's phone number without there being some kind of sneaky ulterior motive.
he and i distantly stayed in the same social circles but i eventually gave up trying to be civil toward him. FUCK HIM. its not my fault that he's a bad fuck. he went out of his way to get next to me and then he had the nerve to change the story up to say that i was i had chased him and not vice versa. originally i felt bad that it got back to him that i said he's a bad screw, but i never would have said that (although i still would have thought it) if he hadn't gotten foul by never calling me back. yeah he was cute, but the big ass ego he had killed the whole thing for me. no more models. i'll take a regular looking dude with great sex over the model anyday. i can't listen to the alicia keys live cd to this day.

this site made me think

i'd like an opinion from you guys on this site. take a minute to check it out and tell me what you think.

home.comcast.net/~wolfand

jokes- oldies, but goodies

i came across these on a website and i thought i'd share them. enjoy.



Why do men want to marry virgins?
They can't stand criticism.

Why is it so hard for women to find men that are sensitive, caring, andgood-looking?
Because those men already have boyfriends.

What's the difference between a new husband and a new dog?
After a year, the dog is still excited to see you.

Why does Mike Tyson cry during sex?
Pepper spray will do that to you .


How do you get a sweet little 80-year-old lady to say the F... Word?
Get another sweet little 80-year-old lady to yell *BINGO*!

i was "tagged"

i just looked at just jazmine's blog and i realized that by me being tagged i have to tell y'all 7 random things about myself. this is kind of hard. oh goodness. here goes:

1) i am paralyzed by my fear of mushrooms and butterflies. mushrooms scare the hell out of me. they always have. i don't know why. they just look weird. when i see them in nature, i go out of my way to avoid them. and butterflies are so f*cking creepy. they don't just flutter, they get all up in your face and flutter. i want to shudder just thinking about either of them.

2) i don't know what i want to be when i grow up. i've been in college for 10 years and i'm finally about to graduate with a degree in communications and i have no clue what i want to do for a career.

3) i'm a gemini through and through. i can tell someone that i love them and curse them out in the same breath. you can meet a bunch of different me's depending on what day it is. but that makes me an interesting person to converse with because it never gets boring since i'm always switching topics.

4) i've lived in atlanta my whole life and i'm one of the few natives. sometimes i want to move out of here, but i want my son to be close to his father.

5) the quickest way for me to downright despise you is for you to be a liar. most people aren't too fond of liars, but i've got an especially strong aversion to them. i've dealt with a lot of people that hate on me and they tend to be the biggest liars so i avoid people i know to be liars like the plague. once i notice the first lie from you, i scratch you off of my cool list. i also tend to listen to what people say and instinctivly check it against something they've told me before. for instance, if you tell me that your dad is dead and he was a drunken deadbeat but 4 years from now you tell me that your dad is awesome and you've never had and argument, unless you're talking about a step parent, i'll instantly know that you're lying. i don't know why someone would lie about stuff like that, but they do.

6) i want more children. i know that my financial situation isn't too good right now, but once i finish my last class next semester and get a decent full time job, i want another baby. i want my son to have a brother or sister to run around with.

7) i'm starting to again believe that i'll never get married. i used to think that i'd never get have children, but then i met my son's father. i love him, but i don't see us getting married. i'd rather tell myself that it'll NEVER happen and be pleasantly surprised if it does, rather than telling myself that i'll meet the perfect man, it not happening and being disappointed.

on being the "cute" friend

throughout most of my formative young years, i was (sadly) the fat friend. its okay, i've come to terms with it. i've been the same shape since i was about 15, in fact i can still fit most of my clothes from high school (my stylish friends beg me to throw that stuff out since they SWEAR that my platform Spice Girl inspired sneakers will never make a comeback). most women would love to say that they've stayed the same size (14-16) since high school, but mine is a double-edged sword. being the size that i am at 28 years old and a mother is pretty impressive. being the size that i am at the age of 14 was horrifying. and to make matters worse my friends tended to be pretty and stylish. those bitches would drag me into stores like 5-7-9 that only sold sizes up to size 9. bitches. and one friend was even a size 0. oh, the horror.
i remember how my friends would hang out with guys and then bring me along to be the girl to make sure that the guy doesn't try anything. i was always in the next room or if she really didn't want him to try anything they'd give me instructions ahead of time to stay in the room no matter what. and in anticipation that they'd bring me along to cock block, the horny boyfriend would bring one of his guys along to keep me company. of course the homeboy would never be cute. actually, uncuteness i don't mind. the fact that they'd normally have the intellect of a bag of nickles was normally what turned me off. truthfully, i can get with nearly any guy as long as we've got good conversation. and that never happened. so i would be stuck with stupid ugly guys while my homegirls would be making out with their cute boyfriends in the next room. good times.
time was eventually kind enough to let me grow into my weight. by 18 i was a regular in the clubs with my short skirts and low-cut tops. i wasn't typically one to give it up easily, but i looked good enough for guys to wish that i was. as time went on and i met more people, i suddenly became the "cute" friend in my new crew of homegirls. thankfully the attention never really went to my head because in my mind i was still the ugly fat girl from high school. it really wasn't until i was about 24 that i even realized that i was even attractive. yeah, guys hit on me, but i depend more on my personality and making a guy laugh than looks to hook them so i didn't think of my looks as a reason for them to want me. anyway, i'd be out with my less attractive friends (i feel like a total snob saying that) and suddenly a guy that i was eyeballing was suddenly actually eyeballing ME back. when and how the hell did that happen?
but with that attention came something that i never thought would happen. yeah, i got more attention from guys, but was the attention something i wanted? since i know what its like to try to approach someone and have them make you look like a total ass, i make it a point to be polite to ALL men that try to approach me, whether they have a snowballs chance in hell or not. and yeah, i got approached a lot. but those guys didn't ask me what books i read or what kind of music i like. most of them just wanted to know when we could "hang out." and when we did hang out (notice the lack of quotation marks here) we'd simply stare at one another. we clearly couldn't talk about the news or books or politics. because half those ignant bastards didn't know their asses from their elbows.
so i became a woman that suddenly got attention from men, but i wasn't a woman that was born beautiful so i didn't think it was my God-given right to be a bitch to men. so now even when i don't want to be bothered, i still smile and talk and nicely decline giving away my phone number. yeah, the quantity of men increased, but the quality sure didn't. i wanted to be attractive, but now dudes wanna holler just because i've got big boobs and a decent smile. is this what i wanted? men to be attracted to me based soley on how i look. the grass really isn't greener here.

the "going to court" blog

i had mentioned earlier about me having to go to court dealing with skank that deen was screwing back in the day. i posted this blog on my myspace page so i thought i'd put it here also to match my father's day in court. we are a classy bunch. enjoy!

I know that I can be labeled as a bit of a conspiracy theorist at times, but I'm officially convinced that there is a group of super crazy bitches that meet up and trade information about me, and their main goal is to collectively stalk me and drive me fucking crazy.
Well anyway, I mentioned a while back about some delusional whore that was contacting Deen and talking out the side of her neck about me. If she had contacted him and called him everything but a child of God, I wouldn't have cared. But the fact that this bitch took the liberty to talk sideways about me, no, I didn't take to it well. She doesn't even know me. So YES, I did contact her to tell her to keep my name out of her mouth. What I didn't tell y'all was that the nutty bitch went so far as to get a RESTRAINING ORDER. Oh my fucking GOD, this bitch doesn't have anything better to do than spend all day in fucking court?
So today, we went to court.This bitch gets before the judge saying that she's his ex-girlfriend (she's his ex-JUMPOFF) and saying that I'm ONE OF his babymamas. Are you serious? After all of the shit he and I have been through, the last thing that man wants is more kids and/or babymamas. So then she pulls the blog I wrote about me contacting her (note, I never said her name in the blog, nor do I intend to in this blog) and tries to call it proof. And then she accuses me of calling her at her job and hanging up. She even tries to show emails that I've supposedly sent her. All I could do was laugh. I mean seriously, I'll admit to what I did but calling her job? How the hell would I even get her work number to begin with? And then she said that she went out of her way to get me banned from City Hall where she works. The funny thing about that is that I have no reason at all to go to City Hall. I only went there when Deen worked there. And he and I only met outside. Do you know how tight security is at City Hall? I'd have to be James Bond to get up in there, whether she was there or not. I don't know where in the building the nutjob works, nor do I care. So anyway, I get up and the first thing I say is that she IS NOT his ex. I explained how much stuff Deen had on his plate when I was pregnant and the LAST thing he wanted at the time was another chick to answer to. I know that I ran him ragged lol. Then I informed them that I am the ONE and ONLY mother to his only child. And then I responded that yes, I did contact her, but it was only after she went fly at the mouth. I also let the judge know that I don't know where she works, nor do I CARE. Same thing for her home. I don't know and I don't care. I told the judge that I'm a college student and a mother and I don't have time to go chasing this heifer down. The bitch then tried to say that she only contacted Deen to discuss stuff they talked about at work. So then I asked about her contacting him in the middle of the night and when I picked up his phone, the crazy bitch hung up. The funniest thing was when she tried to say that when she was talking about him knocking up that "ugly bitch," she wasn't talking about me, she was talking about another woman and that she was drunk at the time. All I could do was shake my head and laugh in disbelief. So the judge asked who he supposedly knocked up. She said that she didn't know the chick's name (WHAT?!) but she heard he had a baby in the pipeline. I laughed. Damn girl, if you're gonna lie, be good with it. The judge then asked if I'd ever threatened her and she mentioned me sending her a message about carpeting my living room with her badly permed hair (I guess she neglected to mention the part where I said "if you show up at my home again, I will carpet...). So to answer the question, no, I never threatened her. And then the judge asked if I'd ever destroyed any of her property. She tried to say that I did something to her makeup (it was so pitiful at this point that the people in the courtroom were laughing at her).
The judge was basically like, both of us were in the wrong and she ordered us to stay away from one another. Which I'm fine with because I really don't have anything to say to the crazy bitch at this point. I let her know that she was wrong, and that's all I wanted to do. So since I know that yet ANOTHER crazy bitch is reading my blog, I put the truth out there. When I picked him up from work today (I'm driving his car) we shared a good laugh about him supposedly having more children. I've been telling my son that he's got brothers and sisters floating around. lol. That bitch is so pathetic.I wish that I had let the judge know that I'm an unemployed college student that I've told Deen numerous times over that if he wants to go fucking with that skank he can, or anyone else. But he keeps me here and he pays the bills and he loves me and our child. The man is flawed. VERY. That's okay though, because I'm fucking his flawed ass tonight and I know that she wishes it was her. Which makes it worth it. And if the bitch decides to go back to court, I haven't threatened her or any of that. I hope she falls down a flight of stairs, head first. But that's not a threat, that's a wish. And if she has a problem with what I'm writing, then goddammit, bitch, don't read it.

ANOTHER member of the family gets dragged into court

Well, if i'm considered crazy, it can be said that i got it honestly. Today I called my dad to ask him something and he finished his reply with "yeah, i just got out of jail." I could only imagine what my father had done this time. Now just for you that don't know, my father is a recovered crackhead who sobered up and went on to get his masters and his Ph.D. He's still mad as a box of frogs though. He reminded me about a guy that he'd been having problems with. The guy has a son in my little brother's class and since his son is an only child, they took a latching to my brother. The guy constantly wanted to take my little brother to the movies and all kinds of stuff. Strangely enough, this isn't the first time someone has attached themself to my biracial brother in a seemingly strange way. I can't understand why, frankly, the boy has the personality of toast. Anyway, my father being a person that has worked with child molestors, drug abusers, and schizos, is kind of wary of people. Honestly, I can't blame him. I want to work full-time but I'm apprehensive about leaving my child with a stranger instead of trading him off with Deen. People are crazy. I've got friends that lend their baby out every weekend and while I respect them doing what they do, I could NEVER just float my son around like that. Anyway, my dad had been complaining to me about the guy for at least a year. My father feels that its not his fault that the guy and his wife never had another child and its not my brother's responsibility to entertain their child.
So anyway my father confronts the guy at my little brother's school, of all places. My father was "talking loudly" as he put it. Frankly, I wouldn't be surprised if my father was yelling and cursing. Anyway, shortly thereafter, a warrant was issued and my father was arrested. He didn't even have to post bond, he got a signature bond. They went to court later and the guy brought the crossing guard from the school as his witness. The crossing guard told the judge point blank that my father yelled at him "leave me and my family alone."
The judge ruled that they pretty much avoid eachother and if they do, all charges will be dropped. That was the point that I'd told my dad about my own trip in front of a judge dealing with that crazy bitch and how in the end the judge also ruled that she and i just have to avoid eachother. He laughed about the whole thing and said "I guess people know now not to mess with us." He was right. He's still mad as a box of frogs. But he's right.

The New Way of Clubbing

A good friend of mine is a well-known dj in Atlanta, my homeboy DJ Scorpio. I got the word that he was having a birthday party, and of course he had 2 vip passes for me and Deen. I asked him ahead of time what type of crowd I should expect. I wanted to know so that I would know in advance how I should dress for the event. He told me that some of the artists that were invited were the Yin Yang Twins, Killer Mike and Gorilla Zoe. So yes, this was going to be one *classy* event (notice thie sarcasm there). Anyway, I knew right then that I would outdress any of the chicks there. Period. I knew that these hood chicks weren't going to know how to look fly up in the place, so I would have to show them how it was done.
I decided on a dressy pink blouse that I own and a long flowing fishtail skirt to match. That with my pointy toe heels, and I knew that it was all me. Deen complimented my look by wearing slacks, a long sleeved button down plaid shirt, and a blue sweater over it. He and I looked like a young professional couple out on the town.
The party took place at Studio 72, which is Jermaine Dupri's club. When we got to the club some guy walked up to our car and told us that it was $5 to park in the parking lot. Now this wasn't some paid lot, the club was in a damned strip mall. So these bastards were basically charging us to park in front of the damned barbershop in the same plaza. Niggas are ALWAYS trying to get over. We reluctantly paid it and walked up to the door. When we got in line there was a gentleman checking i.d.'s. I asked him how old people had to be to get in the club that night and he replied with "18 to party, 21 to drink." he must have noticed the stank look on my face because he responded by telling me that they didn't expect a lot of partiers under 21 that night. *sigh* I stood in the vip line to enter the club. I noticed that they were actually patting people down. Sweet Jesus. Patting people down? I'm a grown ass woman and I'm going into a club where people are getting patted down because they don't know how to act? I should have went back to the car right there. But I was there to support Scorpio. The guy in front of me was told that he couldn't enter the club with the black bandana that he had in his pocket so he volunteered to throw it away. This is around the point where I knew that I outgrew this scene a LONG time ago.
We got into the club and I quickly realized that I not only outdressed most of the women in there, I trampled the bitches. Since when does every woman walk into the club with sweaters and jeans? It was a little breezy that night, but dang, they could have at least tried. I was taken to back when I was 21 and hitting the clubs. My homegirls and I had the hair done, nails done, new outfits. We looked GOOD. Hell, we had to, competition was fierce. Women didn't walk into the club with jeans. We wore dresses and short skirts. Our boobs were hanging out. We looked like call girls, but dammit, we looked like high priced call girls. The chicks in Studio 72 that night looked like the came in from hanging at Starbucks. Somehow I didn't get the memo that women were no longer required to look nice while going out. I told Deen that he could go holler at a chick if he saw someone he wanted, and he shook his head and looked at me like I asked him to kill himself. No surprise because I sure as hell wasn't checking for any of the dudes in the club either.
When we got in there Deen headed straight to the bar. He ordered a cranberry and vodka. He complained for the next 10 minutes how watered down the drink was. Damn, Jermaine can charge people $5 to park but they're watering down drinks? Bastards. As he sipped, he also noticed that very few people were drinking. I guess other people felt the same thing about watered down drinks because most of the guys had beers. None of the chicks had drinks either. So basically, dudes weren't even buying drinks for the ladies. Hell when I was 21 and half-dressed, dudes were BEGGING us to take shots. The hoochies that night didn't even look good enough to get drunk to take home. With my friends, since I'm not much of a drinker, they normally had guys buy drinks, get drunk as hell, I kept a sober eye on them to make sure that no one tried anything crazy, and I took their drunk behinds home. Good times.
I don't know what happened to clubs. Granted this place was far more ghetto and younger than I've grown accustomed to. Deen and I left pretty early. I was done. I got dressed up and looked too damned good to be surrounded by kids that wouldn't know a real party if it happened on their doorstep. Things have changed. Ladies don't know the value of looking like ladies, dudes don't know that once you are 30 years old, there is no reason to dress like a 16-year-olds. Men don't buy drinks for ladies. I was utterly disgusted. I'm going back to MJQ Concourse in Atlanta. Where men still buy ladies drinks, great music is played, I know the djs, a nice outfit is appreciated (but not required), and I won't get patted down.

adventures in dating- another one bites the dust

i got a myspace message recently from a guy i'd never met. now due to that crazy hiefer's tendancy to act like other people and try to be my friend (i'm telling yall, that bitch chloe c. has no fucking life) i was rather apprehensive as to whether i should talk to him or not. he said that he stumbled upon my page and he thought i was pretty (flattery will get you everywhere!) and he gave me his number to call him. i thought about erasing the message, but i figured, what the hell, i'll try him.
on a day that i wasn't busy, i sent him a text saying that i'm malika and asking if he was busy. he replied later that he wasn't and we texted a few times back and forth. the first thing i noticed in the text he sent back was that he was referring to me as "baby" (strike 1) and despite me not being cool with it, i let it slide. we eventually got on the phone with one another. within the call i told him the same thing i tell all guys that are interested. i've got a son, live with my son's father, he and i aren't serious, and before i enter a relationship with anyone i want to be financially independent. somehow the conversation went to a strange place. he seemed so nice. he was educated, he even started his own book club. i told him about my internet being down and how its hurting me finishing out this semester of school and how hard it is to work on a project at a computer lab with the baby running around. the guy told me that i'm welcome to come to his house WITH MY SON to use his computer. *huh?* not gonna happen. so then as i once again talked about my desire to be financially independent he seemed to get a tad offended. i explained to him that its nothing personal, i simply don't want to depend on a man financially and then one day he comes home, tells me he's leaving, and my son and i are out on the streets. as thankful as i am that deen pays the bills, i keep it in mind that he could switch up on me any day. i think that most women should be ready for the worst. i would think that a man would be clicking his heels up to see that a woman desires to be able to take care of herself and her child, rather than depending SOLELY on him. not this guy. he said that is why trust is so important. i explained to him that jesus christ himself could come to me and say that he'll pay all of my bills and i wouldn't have to worry, and i'd say "no offense jesus, but i need to be able to pay my own bills first before i roll with you." of course, not being a christian makes it a bit easier for me to decline an invitation from jesus, but that's neither here nor there. anyway, he goes off into saying that he wants me to stay the night. i told him that i'm not having sex with ANYONE any time soon. he said he wants to know what its like to wake up holding me. now this wouldn't be nearly as weird if this weren't our FIRST phone conversation. as it truly dawns on me that this guy aren't on the same plain, in the same book, on the same planet, in the same solar system, in the same fucking galaxy. he just didn't get it. needless to say, strike 2. that's right, all of this foolishness, and the guy still has a little rope left to hang himself.
we'd been on the phone for an hour (its safe to say that i'm a glutton for punishment) and i had to get ready for work. i told him that i'd call him when i got home. well, once i got home, deen and caleb and i ended up watching t.v. and doing a family moment so i didn't call him. i had every intention of calling him back, that just wasn't the moment for me to do so. at 8:30 the next goddamned morning, dude texted me to ask if i was busy. do i seem like a morning person to ANY of you?! didn't think so. i happened to be up because i had just dropped deen off at work and i was on my way somewhere to go work on my project. i simply replied with a text that said "yes, i'm doing homework" and he replied with a text that said "yeah, sure whatever. just call me when you're not too busy." and there, ladies and gentlemen, we have strike 3.
first off, family, school and business comes before ANY dude right now. that's real talk. second of all don't EVER call or text me that early in the damned morning unless someone is dead or pregnant. and third, no, i won't call you all of the damned time. period. its nothing personal, i just have a lot of shit going on to where i don't wait by the damned phone to talk all of the damned time. i've got a clique of homegirls that i've had since high school and i'd take a bullet for those chicks and i don't even talk to them everyday. its because they have lives too. he really seemed like a nice guy. he's even texted me a few times since then, i just have no desire to talk to him. i just couldn't deal with someone that wanted to be under me 24/7. oh well, back to the drawing board.

my one chin hair

i wish i could say that doesn't take any effort to be a m.i.l.f. but the fact is, looking good takes effort no matter who you are. beyonce spends a lot of time and money to look like "beyonce." jennifer lopez is pale as hell underneath all the make-up. tyra will admit to being a mess under all of the m.a.c. i'm sadly no exception.
i exfoliate, moisturize, primp, and pull at myself when i'm headed out for a hot night with my homegirls. granted, when i'm chilling at the crib, looking fly isn't always priority number one. hell, when i'm on an ice cream run in the middle of the night, i'm a hot mess in my pajama bottoms and house shoes at the grocery store. but overall, on the day to day, i'm looking nice. my son's father has even taken to asking me if i've got a boyfriend at school since i'm stepped up my game in the looks department when i head out of the house for class.
so its irritating that with all the effort i've been putting into trying to look like a lady on the regular, i seem to have encountered a traitor. a small, but nevertheless effective, enemy. its just one single fucking chin hair. its small. almost invisible. but its just big enough for me to see and drive me CRAZY. i've spent many a day in front of the mirror trying to pluck that little bastard before it can can even THINK of becoming long enough to be seen. what?! you didn't know that chin hairs think? of course they do! they're smart. they wait until you're complacent and you forget that they are waiting to violate you. and then they strike again. that's the m.o. of this chin hair. its the same damned hair that always grows in the same spot. i've achieved positions that madonna would be jealous of, while laying up on the mirror, trying to grab and pluck this damned thing. i look like a circus contortionist when its time to pluck it again. seriously, i'll climb up on the bathroom counter and be a mere half an inch from the mirror in an attempt to grab it and yank it with tweezers. deen gets mad and he's always like, "damn, malika, can i at least finish PEEING before you start tugging at that thing?" (deen is so selfish) i always get the hair eventually, though. i've lost a quite a bit of blood in the process, but i always get it.
i understand that there are plenty of women that deal with excessive hair and they accept it. sorry, but that's not gonna be your girl. i don't have control over a lot of things in my life. i'll win some and i'll lose some. however, this fucking chin hair will NOT get the best of me. i'll be waiting with tweezers on deck to tackle this little bastard whenever it wants to rear its ugly little black head again.
you hear that, chin hair?! I'M ALWAYS READY!!!

why won't men share the damned remote control?!

i'm sitting here with the baby daddy, watching the b.e.t. awards. i'll complain about this crap later, but on to my current rant. i love this man, i truly do. he's taught me how to love unconditionally and to accept people for who and what they are. he was married before and i have no doubt that one day he'll make a wonderful husband again.
so what is it about this mutha phucka that will NOT allow him to share the damned remote with me?! seriously. we'll watch television and he'll land on a channel, but 25 seconds into a show, he'll turn. never fails. a host on a tv show will say something like "and the winner of the $25,000 grand prize is-" *SWITCH!* or "markeesha, you want to know if donqwavious or andrell is the father of your daughter, lontravia. markeesha, the father of lontravia is- *SWITCH!* or judge judy will lay into two equally stupid parties, and you're just dying to know who she's about to side with. "judgement is awarded to-" *SWITCH!*. it wouldn't irritate me so much if the shows weren't on just long enough to get me hooked. but they always are. i could even deal with him switching during a commercial break. and he switches in the middle of the shows. it irritates the hell out of me.
why can't i hold the dang remote? its not like i'm going to turn to lifetime or something. sometimes before he comes home, i'll caress the remote control and truly relish my time with it. i kiss it and i explain to the remote that i love it too, but my custody is limited to when deen goes to work. because i know that once he comes home, my time with it is up. how wonderful it is to control the volume on a television without having to ask someone to turn it up or down. i can actually watch a show from beginning to end. i am able to focus on just one program instead of watching 3 or 4 at a time. while in my custody, football and espn takes a backseat to the things that i actually want to watch.
women, we need to end this. i would say let's withhold sex from them until they learn to share the remote, but frankly, that would keep us from getting ours, and i'm not one to promote any women being sexually frustrated. i don't know how we can solve this, but we need to. and i know that i'm not the only woman to deal with this, because i had an ex that did it also. is it a control thing? why am i asking, of course it is. does it make them feel good to know that they're subjecting the rest of the house to whatever the hell they want to watch? i know for a fact that it starts early too, because my nephew has controlled any television in the room with him since he was an embryo. no one was bold enough to turn from barney while he commanded the television. it wasn't worth the screaming fit he'd have. same with deen. i can get the remote if i really want to. the question is, is it worth the hassle?

i can't believe i cried in class

today in class two classmates did a presentation about misrepresentations of women in the media and part of the presentation focused on using violence against women in advertising. one of my guy classmates commented that he can't believe that women stick around after a guy starts abusing them. i felt the need to raise my hand to answer to what he stated.
i said that guys don't start doing that mess at first. on the first dates they smile and compliment you and tell you that you're beautiful. then the first time they get mad, they tell you that you're fat and ugly. and i cried. i got choked up and tears streamed down my face in front of my teachers and peers as i suddenly recalled being worthless. i remembered that one day, david called me a moron. i don't remember why, but he did. and that whole day, i felt like hell. i felt so stupid and worthless. and a good friend pulled me to the side that evening and asked me what was wrong. and i told him that david called me a moron. and maybe he was right. maybe i WAS in fact a moron. and i cried on my friend's shoulder about how stupid i felt. he never hit me, but i swear i'd rather be hit than have him shred away my self-esteem verbally the way he did.
what surprised me the most about my outburst in class, was that david and i haven't been romantically linked in 2 years. i've moved on, i've got a son by another man that treats me way better than david ever did. i don't want david back at all. so why is it that suddenly out of the blue, i was taken back to feeling like a nobody? i felt like that girl in high school who he mercilessly teased in front of her friends. and i loved him still. two years later and i still cry about it. it seems like a lifetime ago. and it still hurts like hell.

the awesomeness of milfiness

i have to admit, when i got pregnant, i was concerned about my transition from sexy single sista, to certified milf. for those of you that don't know, milf stands for Mom I'd Like to F*ck. that's right, some mothers resist being considered sexy, but damn that, i'm sexy and not afraid of it. i'm not one of those moms that has to dress like a 16-year-old to feel sexy. but i am a mom that has full lips, a cute button nose, sexy long legs, big boobs, and big beautiful bedroom eyes. why should i be ashamed of that just because i have a child? i don't put my ability to look fly above my ability to take care of my son, but a man wants to know that a woman is able to take care of home and baby, all while looking good. today i walked through the train station with my child, i had a guy look over at me an say "hello, beautiful." there was also another guy on the train that i was eyeballing and he was eyeballing me in return. here's the best part- i wasn't wearing a little black dress with my boobs hanging out. i was wearing sweats. that's right, i'm f*ckable even when i'm not trying. who doesn't want to be considered sexy? i'm a milf. damn right.

my play-brother lost his unborn child

his wife was about 5 months along. he and i talked every few weeks and he told me how things were progressing. they thought they were having a girl. it turned out they were having a boy. i look at my son and i know how much of a joy he is to me. he is literally my reason for living. before i had him, if i had died, i wouldn't have cared. caleb brown is my reason for being here. this is in part why i became an atheist. no loving God would do this to sweet loving people. i don't understand how any woman can live through something this hard. i would probably kill myself. before i got the news today, i was talking to a girlfriend about how her daughter is about to turn a year. we talked about how quickly they grow up. about how magical it is to have a new baby. how everything they do is so special and new. nothing brings out the feeling of being a woman more than caring for your newborn baby.
my heart aches for my play-brother so much. i remember being pregnant. i remember my son's father being a bastard through most of my pregnancy. and i also remember that the health of my unborn child was the most important thing to me. i loved to rub my belly and talk to my unborn baby. i tried to tell myself that until the baby made it here, that anything was possible and that there was no guarantee that he would make it full term. but he did. he was happy and healthy. a whopping 10 lb 9.2 ounces. his dad swears that he heard the doctor call him a "monster" because of his size when he was born. i remember that his dad's first words after he layed eyes on him were "he's gray." *smile* i always laugh at that. because of that, we joked that the baby was the incredible hulk because of his size and because the incredible hulk was originally gray in the comic book. his dad was down right giddy. the nurses told me how happy his dad was when he learned that we had the 2nd biggest baby born at the hospital that year. my son's father is 6'6 and he attributes our huge healthy baby to his own girth.
i can't imagine how much they hurt. i can't imagine making so many changes to my home and job, to start buying little clothes. little clothes that are now going to be a reminder of the worst day of their lives. my brother doesn't deserve this. no one does.

Bitch, move on!!!

Why me? Seriously, why the hell does it seem like crazy, jealous psychotic women follow me around in an attempt to wish me ill will? Seriously! I already had to go to court because of one crazy bitch and then ANOTHER one is at me. I don't want to seem like a drama queen because I'm really not, I just want to live a peaceful life. I wish this tacky ass bitch that thought she was being funny would go the hell on with her life. This shit is just stupid now. I'm a grown ass woman, in May I'll be a college graduate, I'm a mother but for some reason jealous skanks have nothing better to do than to google me (of all things) and then go to my blogtalk.com page and leave ignorant ass comments? SERIOUSLY?! Bitch, do you really want to be me THAT BAD?! Is your man really that much of a nobody that you're pissed off that he settled for your stupid ass? I'm gonna find refuge in Buddha and meditate on this, but you betta pray I don't catch your ass in the club.

Yet Another Man That Got Away

This is a story from a few years back. To give you a little back drop, I grew up in College Park, Georgia before my mom moved to Decatur. Once I moved out of my mom's house, I got my first aparment back in College Park.
While I lived in College Park initially, I went to Banneker High School. I had two classmates that were identical twin brothers. Lionel and Lanier. Lanier was the slower of the two, in the special eduation classes and all. Lanier walked with a very pronounced limp and he had that disorder where his arm was always folded in front of him. Needless to say he got a lot of good natured ribbing from our classmates. And then there was Lionel *sighs dreamily* Lionel was SO hot. He was too cool for school. Literally, because his ass was never there. But the 2 days out the month he did show up I would sit in class with him laughing and joking away while staring into those beautiful green eyes of his. Man, I wanted Lionel.
Anyway when I moved away from College Park I forgot about Banneker, including Lionel and Lanier. So imagine my surprise when I'm at the bus stop after I moved back, and I see one of the brothers sitting a few benches over. But which one was it? At this point it had been many years since I had seen either brother. The guy looks at me and he says "didn't you go to Banneker?" and I replied "yes". I plotted. If this was Lionel, this was my chance to make him mine. No longer were we bound by the social stigmas of "lame" and "popular". We were adults, I aged rather well, if I do say so myself, and if I played my cards right, Lionel could finally be mine for the taking. But was this him?
I decided that the best way to figure out which one this was was to ask questions. He told me that he had a child or two (I don't recall) and that he and his babymama had separated. He also told me that he worked at UPS and that he lived in an apartment with a roommate. And that was all the evidence I needed. Lanier with his limp and messed up arm wouldn't have a babymama, a decent job, and an apartment. I quickly wrote my phone number out, in hopes of FINALLY linking up with Lionel. We talked a bit more, before he announced that his bus was approaching in the distance. He promised to give me a call as we said our goodbyes. The bus arrived and he got up. And he LIMPED onto the bus.

Women That Don't Enjoy Sex- Poor Bitches

I've actually had two of my female friends admit to me that they don't really enjoy sex. Both of them told me (separately, of course) that during sex they simply lay there. LAY THERE?! Dear GOD! I suppose they think they enjoy it, but man, they're missing out! Neither of them really switch up positions, do the oral bit or anything. If the day ever comes that I'm saying that during sex I just lay there and let a dude do whatever he wants, I want you to drag me by my locs to the nearest Insurrection Adult Novelty Store and and empty out my bank account on toys, nipple clamps and dvd's. What the hell is the point of having sex if you don't enjoy it? I love my son, but TRUST, he wouldn't have made it here if there wasn't some serious pleasure going on. And I plan on having fun making more in the future.
How can a woman relinquish such an intimate part of her body to a guy and not even get true joy out of it? And don't EVEN get me started on women that don't climax. *shakes head in horror* If this message reaches any of my sisters that aren't getting theirs don't be afraid! Reclaim your sexuality! Have fun! Any man worth a salt will want to make you feel your best, if for no other reason, so that he can claim bragging rights.You deserve to have the filthiest, nastiest, most disgusting and PLEASURABLE sex of your life. Because you're a special, dirty girl and you deserve to be treated like one! ;)

Arguing With Fools

I posted something on my Myspace blog about this crazy whore that I had to go to court for. Basically this bitch contacted my son's father about the fact that she couldn't believe that he knocked up that "ugly bitch" meaning myself. I was so pissed off that I called her and told her straight up that if she has an issue with him, that's fine but to keep me and any references to me out of her mouth. I called her that one time, I texted her three times, and I sent her a single Facebook comment. Excessive yes. Am I sorry? NO. I sent those things within a small window of time and I forgot about it. So imagine my surprise when I get a summons a few days later. This bitch went and got a RESTRAINING ORDER against me. Are you serious? Apparently she doesn't have anything better to do with her time. I'm a college student and a mother, I sure do.
This bitch went to court lying about my son's father having numerous children with numerous women and she even went so far as to say that I called her at work harassing her (for the record, I don't have her work number- another lie she told). Anyway, we went to court and the judge said that we were both in the wrong and to leave eachother alone. I was fine with that, whatever.
Later on, I stumbled upon the the saying "Never argue with a fool; onlookers may not be able to tell the difference" and I realized that was exactly what happened. Rather than me being the bigger woman and leaving her to sulk in her own misery, I went to court and looked like an idiot, when in fact, she was. I argued with a FOOL. And I ended up looking like one too. dammit.

My Home Cleaning Protest Didn't Work

I'm not a clean person. I'm sure that most of you don't know this, but its true. I am not a fan of cleaning. It just seems so wrong. I don't let mold grow up on dishes or anything like that, but if a pair of jeans is laying in the middle of my bedroom for 2 weeks straight, bfd.
However, living here with Deen and Caleb, I've decided to embrace my current situation as a stay-at-home mom and make sure that things are nice and clean when Deen gets home. Deen, being the bastard that he is, has taken to forgetting what challenge it is for me to clean our home and have food on the stove for him when he gets home. After an argument the other night where I felt that I have reached my limit of him knitpicking my attempts at cleaning our home, so I decided to protest. I felt that if he was going to whine instead of thanking me when I am truly trying to help him out, I'll just cease cleaning. That night (Wednesday), I went to sleep without cleaning the kitchen.
I woke up Thursday morning to the mess that was my living room and kitchen. I managed to work around it. I noticed that the night before Deen went to sleep, he'd put many dishes in a sink of soapy water. Lazy bastard. It drove me crazy to not be able to actually cook in a clean kitchen, but I weathered on. i had to rinse out forks that were in the dishwasher for me to use. My living room started to look like an expanded version of Caleb's play pen with my little scamp pulling out every single toy we've ever purchased for him. As much as I wanted to, I resisted cleaning my living room. It was actually, strangely hard for me to see my living room like that.
Friday morning. Those dishes are STILL in the standing dish water. A wok that Deen had left out from Wednesday night had the same water still in it to soften the gunk in it. The water in the wok was starting to turn white. As the day wore on, the dishes in the standing water in the sink were now surrounded by a slimy gray matter. The only clean silverware in the drawer is butterknives, so I'm having to clean my own forks and spoons as I get ready to eat. This is getting embarassing. But I WILL NOT GIVE IN. The counters started to give way to dishes that could no longer fit into our already full gray slime-filled sink. The bowl that Deen left on the living room table Wedensday night is in the EXACT same spot. Aparently Deen is blind. Because I see a freaking MESS. Deen hasn't even mentioned my lack of cleaning. Jackass.
On to Saturday morning. The gray matter in the wok is developing a really funky white layer on top of it. A bug somehow climbed into the sludge in our sink and took his own life by drowning and he's just floating around. That stupid bowl is in the same stinking place on the living room coffee table. Fruit flies have amassed somewhere and they are flying directly to my face. There is no counter space to even prepare food for the microwave. The toys pulled out by my son are in the same spot, unless he himself moved them to another place for mommy to trip over. I called my homegirl Chasell to brag about how great not cleaing my home is. I tell her about the fruit flies and the science experiements growing in my sink and wok. And Chasell says to me "you're going to crack." "NO I'M NOT!!!" I reply as I shoo a fruit fly away. I just kept thinking that at any moment, Deen is going to come home and ask me why the heck our home is being over run by fruitflies and slime. He didn't. I called him and I said, "are you even going to MENTION the fact that I haven't cleaned our home in three days?!" and he replied with "I was going to come home and clean up tonight. I mean, I wasn't going to clean ALL of it, but I was going to straighten up a little." So my protest didn't mean anything, aparently. Then I said to him "did you even NOTICE that I haven't touched anything? Gosh, you don't appreciate me!!!" Being a guy, he stated, "I do appreciate you. I know its not easy to clean and look after the boy."
At that point I felt that his wack apology was enough good reason for me to FINALLY clean my home. I called Chasell and admitted to her that I'd started cleaning. "I knew you would," she said. I hate it when she's right.

losing respect while maintaining respect for ourselves

i'm SO pissed off at a guy friend of mine. my roommate has been bringing his homegirl by lately, an ex of his. they've been doing their thing this summer while her kids were out of town, and now that the kids are back (they lived together with the kids at one point) she's leaned on him for more, and he's told her hell no. his exact quote "she knew what it was." he came to deen and i earlier and told us that if she came by the house to get some food she'd left (groceries for her children) we were not to let her in or give her the food until he gave the okay. i told him that honestly, as a mother (not to mention as a human being) i have a hard time telling a single working mother that she's not entitled to food, that she purchased, for her children. thankfully, a few minutes later my roommate told me that he'd talked to the woman and that she was cleared to pick up her food. i was glad to hear that because i really didn't want to be in a position to be so grimy to her. anyway, she came by the apartment this evening with him to get her food and she promptly left. the woman in me knew that she was holding back tears and i ran outside to chase her and offer her a ride home (she was getting on the train) and she kindly declined and asked me to call her later.
i came back inside to ask him what happened and he said that he guesses that she realized how much she missed him once the kids got home. she leaned on him to make things permanent, he told her no. i, being a woman that has had a number of sexual partners (i'm not a HO or anything, i'm just sayin') i've realized that the easiest way to keep things simple in this kind of situation is to not let things too close to begin with. both parties should call eachother when the "mood" strikes, and no other times. no "dates," no hanging out, no fancy dinners, no movies. you call eachother for sex, no more, no less. i explained to my friend that he knew in his heart that the woman was starting to feel him. she was at the apartment sometimes up to 3 or 4 times a week (not that we minded), they went out to eat, they went to dinner. so, in essence, they were dating. he started the arrangement by telling her that they were only sex buddies, but he erred in treating her as more. i'm not suggesting that he treat her like a prostitute and kick her out directly after sex, but when you start having people come by your apartment directly after work, even while you're gone, you're both starting to escalate.
i tried to explain to him where he went wrong in the agreement, by taking things to next level and not sticking by his own arrangement. i can see how he felt that she shouldn't have gotten attached when they agreed it would only be sex. but he went against the rules by treating her as his girlfriend, which is what escalated the situation. so in all honesty, they were both at fault. and the motherfucker sitting in front of me, was too much of a fucking hard head to even admit to his blame in the situation. i was irritated and extremely disappointed to see that this person that i at one point respected so much, had no remorse at all. NONE. that woman was going to go home and cry her eyes out (and i know because i've been there) and the bastard sitting in front of me doesn't even care. he was saying that due to their long dramatic past, he's seen the tears and he's seen her nut up, so why should he care about her feelings? all in all, the guy knew she was falling for him again, but to cut things off with her earlier would be to cut off his pussy supply. i even tried to explain to him how as a woman (especially as a single mother) we take so much shit off of men. when a woman gives herself to a man, (especially a man she loves) she's not only giving herself physically, she's also giving herself emotionally and spiritually. and there is nothing that hurts more than to give the most intimate parts of yourself to a man, only to have him toss you and your heart into the gutter like you never mattered. god knows i've been there. so here is another woman that has to pick up the pieces of her heart and life and try her best to move on. i can't even look this guy in the eye.

i saw 90-year-old balls

i thought that working in a nursing home would be fun. deen gave me the idea to work at one close to our apartment. i went in there to fill out an application and was told that the qualification of living in the area alone might just get me in the door. for some stupid reason i thought "great i'm in the door." it was also great that i was considering going back to school, once i finally finish this degree, and going into nursing.
after interviewing (barely) i was told to come in to shadow another worker to see if this is the type of job i'd be interested in. "yay" i thought. "i'll LOVE this job." at 7 a.m. i arrived (damn, i hate mornings) and met the woman i was to follow. as we arrived in the first woman's room to wake her, i saw her feet sticking from under the covers, and all i could think was "please god, don't let her be dead." i saw her feet kick slightly and i was happier than a stripper after young jeezy walks into the club. but then we went into the next room, a man's. and the woman i shadowed (taishon) lifted him, stripped him down, took off his diaper (EW!), and helped him into the shower. and he stood there all old and wrinkly, with balls as big as all out doors. there is absolutely NO COMING BACK from something that traumatic. this will be my job. dear lord.to be honest, after the short 4 hours i spent in this place i found myself wondering if nursing is really what i want to do. i mean seriously, i want a career, not a job. but i don't want to be on my feet for the next 30 or 40 years until i retire. so now i'm also rethinking the possibility of nursing. i've decided that i'm just going to watch how things go for me at this job to determine if nursing is something that i really want to do.
on top of all the other stuff, this job really brought out the notion of mortality. i found myself thinking about myself at their age, my own mother at their age, my grand parents who were in the same shape as these people when they died. would i want to be here one day? would i want my mother to be here? don't get me wrong, in all seriousness, these people were very well taken care of by the staff. its just the old man balls/EW!/please-don't-let-them-die-on-my-shift/mortality thing that kind of freaks me out. in short, all of it. initially, i had a decent amount that i'm expecting to receive for this job. when i talked taishon, she explained that they will try to pay me less than i expected. so all of this AND i'll get paid less than i wanted. ain't this a bitch?

women, let these dudes know: SHIT OR GET OFF THE POT!!!

many of my home girls are having the same problem. so many of them are wrapped up with guys that are making them crazy. they'll be with a guy and love him, nurture him, screw him, and spoil him for years and he STILL doesn't know who or what he wants. i'm giving all of my girls the same advice. tell him straight up: SHIT OR GET OFF THE POT. we give them too many choices. if my time with david taught me anything, its that women need to reclaim our power. in all aspects of nature the male animals fight with other males for the love, affection, and mating rights of the female. how did american women get that twisted? i learned after 10 years of giving david the best sex of his life, driving him around and spoiling his ass, i realized that we lived the life of a married couple, but he didn't want to commit fully. i told him that we needed to take the plunge and seriously progress things or it needed to end. and when i cut things off he called me, texted me, called my friends to ask about me, bought dvds that he knew i wanted and texted me to invite me to watch them with him. all of that, and his ass still wasn't trying to move it forward with me.
i hate myself for allowing that bastard to take so much from me spiritually, sexually, and emotionally. if that crap with him taught me nothing else, it taught me the importance of walking away when i need to. i walk away from men, friends, family. it doesn't matter.
but back to men. when women claim our sexuality we understand that we shouldn't give all of ourselves to any man. and once we do make that mistake, we need to be willing to leave. it amazed me how david was calling and texting ME. 10 years of calling me fat and unworthy and once i wanted to leave, he was begging me to stay. and i obviously made the wrong choice of falling back into dealing with him again. i should have left and STAYED gone. but i let him claim my power.
now on to deen. i love him. i do. and to say otherwise would be to lie. and after a few transgressions i've packed my shit, my son, and left. and i meant to stay gone. love or not, i was and am NOT going to be a victim again. he professed his love. he apologized and straightened up. i'll give a man all of the room in the world, but in the end when a woman really wants a man to do right, she needs to be willing to walk away and not look back. and once she leaves, he's either going to realize that he needs to straighten up or he's going to let her go because he didn't love her to begin with. but either way, women need to let these guys know that they can't have it all. they are either going to come home or stick with the skeezers out in the streets. (david picked the skeezer THANK GOD). i gained so much respect when kim porter left puffy. he came home and all of her crap was GONE. her, the twins, her clothes, shoes, toothbrushes, hairweaves, all GONE. and in an interview when asked about it, she explained that he's the kind of man that you have to show, not tell. and she showed him her ass. i want to shake her hand because of that.
so anyway ladies, i'm done. just remember yall, stop letting the guys call the shots. when you tell him its over (even if you don't plan for it to be so) , let it be over. no phone calls, no text messages, no nookie. we need to reclaim our power and stop letting these guys half ass us in relationships. would you want some dude like david to warm your bed for 10 years only to lie and play head games with you? i didn't think so.

despite the bruising, i survived my high school reunion

damn, has it really been 10 years? i knew that my 10 year high school reunion was coming, and they were going to really do it up. they rented the ball room at the w hotel at perimeter mall, they rented out a club, they met up at a lounge, they went to church AND they had a barbecue. say what you want about ghettofabulous southwest dekalb high school, my classmates did it up. i actually forgot about all of the other events but thankfully sunday my homegirl nicole reminded me about the picnic, the last event and she even volunteered to drive. part of me really didn't even want to come because after a slight altercation with someone a few days ago (DON'T EVEN ASK) i'm left with scratches all over my face and a hideous stye that (lucky me) appeared on my eye. if there is a god, he laughed his ass off at my misfortune. who doesn't simply dream of showing up to their reunion broke, still finishing their degree, with a face that screams "domestic abuse victim." (which, for the record, i'm not TRAVIS !!! lol)
as we approached all i could think was where did i fit in? i imagined seeing the pretty girls, the smart girls, the skinny girls, the rich girls, the popular girls, and then going to stand in a corner by myself. as nicole and i walked up, i swear i felt like people were looking at me as if i was an alien. i walked up to maxine (for some reason she's one of the smart, pretty, skinny, popular girls that became one of my dearest friends) and once she and i embraced, along with leah, who was sitting right next to her, the vultures (i mean pretty/skinny/rich/smart/popular girls) realized that i wasn't a crasher, just a fellow student they never so much as stopped to spit on, the mean-mugging stopped. before i got there, i imagined that the same bastards that picked on me mercilessly would be there to remind me of whatever stupid thing i used to do or say in 3rd or 4th period. but it wasn't like that. there were hugs. laughter. getting to know eachother's kids. holding conversations with people i never talked to before. we weren't kids. we were and are adults. some have degrees. some own businesses. some are married. and we came together and embraced. and it felt good. i was one of those people that said "why the hell would i want to see those assholes? screw them all." but i'm glad nicole brought me. it brought closure and clarity to the very strange period of life known as high school. i'm no longer malika, that awkward fat nerd. i'm malika, that pretty funny, sarcastic, smart, loving mother. i'm malika.
and i'm an adult.

marriage based solely on love is STUPID

i've been thinking about the whole marriage thing lately. not to deen (my beloved, yet aloof live-in baby daddy) or anything, just in general. i think its so stupid when people are all "i love this person with all of my heart so i'm going to marry them, forget the fact that we're both broke, we're IN LOVE." that's the dumbest shit i've ever heard. marrying for love. what are you, stupid? i initially thought about when a woman should base her readiness to get married on. i came to these numbers:

50% love
50% business

and that's real talk. love is beautiful. but forget what you heard, love doesn't pay bills. georgia power company doesn't give a damned if a woman and her new husband make love for hours on end as long as the bill is paid. who the hell wants to be madly in love living in a card board box? if a woman is going to get married it should benefit her financially as well as emotionally. i'm not speaking as a gold digger. i'm speaking as a woman that has seen women not protect themselves monetarily so they end up supporting some broke bastard. if you get married ladies, make sure he's pulling in some loot. and if she is the bread winner, he needs to be home with the kids full time. if she's working and he isn't, there's no reason to spring for a nanny and a maid too. that's just bad business. so anyway, that brought me to what numbers a man should have in order to get married. so i decided on this:

33% love
33% business
33% trust

i know the trust thing is important for women too, but dudes tend to highly overlook how much they need to trust their future wife. assuming the man is the breadwinner, he needs to know that his woman is going to run for him. i realized how much deen trusts me when he gave me $700 cash to put into his account. gave me the account number and all. needless to say, i dropped it off without a hitch and i didn't hold on to the account number, but still. there are plenty of men that work hard to provide for the household and they trust the woman to take care of the money that he brings in. as a matter of fact, i've got a homeboy that gave his girl an amex and old girl ran up a bill of $4k in a month. he hit the roof, she agreed to pay him back (she didn't) and he had to take out a loan to pay the card off. and then he married her a few months ago. i was sick to my stomach when i learned he wifed her. and now she's pregnant. i seriously told him that i give it 5 years on the marriage. i think she's a great person, don't get me wrong. but you can't trust her on that level. and she's a bad business move. when a man is getting married, he needs to know that if he goes to jail his woman is going to put money on his books and work to get him the best lawyer possible. or if the man is in a car accident and paralyzed for the rest of his life, he needs his wife to be willing to lift his ass in and out of wheelchairs for the rest of his life. and we're not even going to talk about colostomy bags. yep, the future wifey should even be willing to change the colostomy bags. if a woman isn't going to try to pay back $4k she ran up getting her hair and nails done, will she be willing to change his shit out? what do you think?

when talking to my homeboy about the numbers, he suggested that for women i change it to:

40% love
40% business
20% trust

i have to agree with him on that. love and business are important, but trust is big for us also. the woman needs to know that dude isn't going to start screwing his 19-year-old secretary and stashing his money into offshore accounts, before withdrawing money from their joint account and leaving her penniless with 3 kids. cuz shit like that happens EVERY DAY. we need to follow our hearts, and get a man that's about money, but we need to know that he's not going to drop us when it benefits him to do so. so yeah, trust important also.

just remember, if you are stupid enough- i mean happy enough to decide to get married, just make sure you've dotted all your t's and crossed all your eyes. because if that person loves you with crossed eyes, you may have really found the right sucker- i mean mate. but seriously, be careful. the last thing youtube needs is another jilted ex. personally, i can't get enough of seeing people spout all the dirt on their exes, i'm just saying that youtube doesn't need anymore of them.