Monday, October 27, 2008

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!!!

Thursday, October 23, 2008

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.

Saturday, October 18, 2008

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.

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

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.

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

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 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.

Sunday, October 5, 2008

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.

Friday, October 3, 2008

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! ;)