Day 9: My Beliefs

So anyway, I'm Buddhist. I believe that people are in charge of their own emotions. If someone is miserable and lonely, it is often of their own doing. Meditation is often a big part in making things better in someone's life. If you can visualize it, you can make it a reality. Everyone has the power to control their own destiny, only most people refuse to see or accept that, so instead they blame others. I believe that everything happens for a reason. As a child, I always knew that my suffering was happening for a reason, and now I find that my experiences made it that much easier to relate to kids when their parents have no idea what's going on with them. I believe that spirits surround us and interact with us almost daily. I believe that I'm happier in my life now than I've ever been. And I believe that there isn't a motherfucker on this planet that can take my joy or peace from me.

Day 8: A Moment

There are some times in life that you just know are special. Moments that stand out as they happen, and you know that moment will stay with you forever. As I approach my son's third birthday, I think back on this moment.

The day before his first birthday, I frantically cleaned our apartment and Pookie agreed to take him out while I tried to get things in order for our guests the next day. I put Pumpkin in his little blue sweatsuit and I handed him to his father. Something about the moment of watching them walk down the hall together... seeing my little munchkin next to his 6'6 father walking down the hall will always resonate with me. I was hoping that his dad would take him for ice cream or something nice.

When they got back, Pookie had brought him a yellow toy lawnmower that makes too much freaking noise and he bought him a set of blocks, both presents that he'd let him pick out for himself for his birthday. I looked at his shirt and asked why it was so dirty. His dad said he'd taken him to Coldstone for ice cream. It's like he read my mind. So anyway, that's my moment. Watching my little booger with his daddy walking down the hall. I hate to say it for fear that you know who will come on here starting mess, but I'd often heard her say that the father of her child is such an emotional deadbeat, that I know to appreciate what Pookie does that much more. So I appreciate seeing him take his son out. I loved that moment. And I always will.

Day 7: My Best Friend

Some days I want to call Pookie my best friend. Today he walked up to me and gave me a kiss on the cheek and told me how much I mean to him. But Pookie, Portia, and Daisy aside, my best friend is my teddy bear, Santan. I've had 'Tan since I was 6 years old. She was a Macy's bear, given to me by my grandmother, when she was mailed for Christmas. My bear has been with me through it all. She has traveled with me, she has flown with me, and she has sat on my bed for the last 20 something years. She is beautiful and tattered, but she means the world to me. She has hugged me back as I gripped her and cried about one idiot boyfriend or another. I love my bear. Santan is my bestfriend. And my bear can kick your best friend's ass.

Day 6: My Day

Not much really happened today. I woke up and met Daisy at the park, where we jogged for about 30 minutes after warming up and goofing off. I told he how frustrated I am that my legs are starting to look awesome and there's hardly any cellulite there, but my stubborn gut (which is what I'm working on) has refused to go anywhere. We only ran for 30 minutes, because I had an appointment. The woman I was scheduled to see rescheduled at the last minute, so I cut my much needed jog short for nothing :(

Pumpkin is still with Pookie's mom, so he and I went apartment hunting today. I dropped him off at work since his truck is down, and I stopped in to see one of my kids and her moms. None of my other families was around or available, so I came on home to chill. It's 11:13 at night, and I'm on the way to go pick up Pookie now.

The End.

Day 5: My Definition of Love

Lord, I swear the timing of some of these blog topics is a trip. I had to go to traffic court outside of the city with a friend of mine today. Where we were, we got to see people coming and going that were there to get married. I shouted congratulations at the happy couples as they walked off, but secretly all I could think is that I don't know if I'll ever want to be married.

Earlier in the day I'd had a conversation with a guy friend of mine about something that Pookie does that would definitely be a deal breaker. I'd told my friend that Pookie had a couple of habits that I couldn't deal with and I'd started to seriously question if I should instead just cut my losses and start looking for someone else. My friend admitted that yes, Pookie definitely had a problem that would be hard to deal with long term (no, it's not drugs or other women or anything like that) and that I had to decide if it was something I could accept. At the time I truly didn't know.

Anyway, I was so happy for the couples, but all I could think of what a sham the whole thing is. I came home, tired as hell after a long day, and Pookie said some slick shit to me. I told him to shut the fuck up. I walked into my bedroom. I dropped my food on my bed, walked back out to the living room and told him that I want to end everything. He asked me what I wanted to drop. I told him us. That's right. Let's end it. You can't and won't change and I'm not going to waste my time trying to. He shrugged his shoulders. It's over. Hell, that's definitely the shortest relationship I've had. I don't know how I feel. Cool I guess. I'm kind of relieved though. When I initially told him that I wanted to try being in a relationship, he fought the notion. He asked if I was giving him an ultimatum. I told him that there was no ultimatum involved. I simply refuse to waste another second of my life in a "relationship" that didn't work. He could choose to be with me or not. I wouldn't lose any sleep regardless. I told him that we'd still be homies, and I'd be okay with him getting another woman, but I'd damned sure be out dating and looking for the right man. He agreed that we could be a couple and see where things go. So that's why it was so easy for me to end it. It's just that time.

So on to the topic at hand. Love is acceptance. Love is knowing when to speak up. Love is knowing when to shut your damned mouth. Love is hugging a man even if he hasn't showered in two days, and knowing he has your heart regardless. Love is knowing its okay for you to talk crazy about him, but being willing to shank any bitch that opens her mouth to do the same. Love is seeing the best in someone, even if they don't see it in themselves. Love is being willing to walk away and knowing when its best to not look back.

Day 4: What I Ate Today

Well, obviously this is supposed to be about what I ate today, but the whole day was awesome and enlightening, so I figured I'd incorporate it all here. Anyway, in cutting back on the eating, I didn't eat until noon. For breakfast/lunch, I ate some curry and rice that Pookie made last night. I also forced myself to drink my unsweetened cranberry juice to fight this stupid bladder infection. It tastes AWFUL. I had time to reflect on more ignorance from Chloe's direction. I had a rare moment of clarity/stupidity and sent her a text that said that despite knowing that she's not at all remorseful, I forgive her and I'm going to pray for her. Yep, I still want to punch her, but based on her actions, she's obviously miserable and for folks like that, all you can do is give it to a higher power. I even decided not to get that restraining order after all.

After that, I grabbed Pumpkin and hauled ass on to pick up Pookie's mom and so we could head down to Pine Mountain, Georgia. On the way down, she told me that she has no beef with me and she knows that I love Pookie and that she adores our son. I apologized for some stupid things I'd done previously. I talked a little about my family and other stuff. We got the chance to bond. I was thankful for the car trip. It really gave us the chance to get to know one another even further. On to the food, while there, we stopped at a Subway and I got a foot-long tuna on wheat, but only ate half of it. I unfortunately had 2 cups of Coke, which was shared with my son (I consider him my junk food buffer, so he can keep me from eating too much junk) and I picked at my son's snack meal of popcorn chicken and potato wedges.

While in Pine Mountain, we stopped at a Dollar General. I don't know about anyone else, but for darned near all of the small towns I visit, I'm always fascinated to visit their Dollar Generals. While in there, Pumpkin being Pumpkin, he ran around. I joked to the cashier that sometimes I wish he had been born at the age of 18. That's when she looked at me and told me that her daughter had died three years ago at the age of 17 in a car accident. I saw the pain on her face. She told me that she'd give anything to hear her daughter fighting with her sister just one more time. I asked her if I could hug her. She nodded. I hugged her tightly. I told her that I love her. And I told her that I'd keep her in my prayers.

Anyway, in the car I bumped some Velvet Rope and after playing "Go Deep" about 10 times in a row on the way home after I dropped Pumpkin off with Pookie's mom, I got the urge to finally visit the gym for the first time since Sunday. Unfortunately I only had time to run half a mile after finishing my weight training circuit, but it's better than nothing. I was so amped from the Janet that I actually ended up adding 5 to 10 lbs to each set. Daisy hit me up when I got home and asked if I wanted to hit the park to go jogging on Saturday. Hells yeah, I do. I miss her since she's back teaching. I got home, where Pookie was making chicken Parmesan. I finished it off and decided that I'm not going to eat tomorrow, as part of my diet that has already helped me to drop 9 lbs so far. Gotta go jogging tomorrow though. Anyway. Nighties.

Today

I'm taking Pookie's mom to Columbus, Georgia. Hour and a half ride. Knowing that I am blessed and that there are ignorant skeezers that seek to destroy my peace, because they haven't been happy a day in their life. Little do they understand that I am in control of my own happiness and no amount of ignorance and chickenheaded and childish behavior will ever change that. My happiness revolves around my child and his achievements, his relationship with his father, my overall friendship with his father, and the beautiful and blessed kids I work with. Pookie is the most beautiful and supportive man I could hope for. My life rocks. Rubbing Buddha's belly...

Life

Shit gets difficult. No one is perfect. I've never claimed to be perfect. My journey may have had tons of bumps and bruises along the way, but it has been my journey and I've learned a lot along the way. I've learned to love myself. Perhaps if my mom wouldn't have fucked up in the parenting department, I wouldn't have known how important it was for me to treat my son well. I've learned that honesty is the best. Lies do nothing but create more lies. Eventually you're lying so much that the people you want to impress the most, can barely stand to look you in the eye.

I'm in a relationship with Pookie. Lord only knows how we got here, and he may be an emotionless robot, but that negro loves me to death. He may not sweep me off my feet, but he feels real emotion toward me and at the right times, it shines through. He is a fantastic father. My son is learning to count because of him. I've wanted children by other men, but every time I see my son and his father wrestling, while we watch tv as a family, I know that the Higher Power, knew what was best for me all along.

I've started collecting Buddha statues and I rub the belly of them often. They remind me to stay calm and in charge of my own emotions. I credit Buddha with giving me the wisdom to not lose my mind but to instead comfort Pookie, when he accidentally threw away a prized possession of mine. I knew at that moment that we were growing together into a single unit. I am truly blessed.

I work my ass off at my job. How many people could say that they'd do their job for free? I can. I've seen my kids at their worst and at their best. I take them to tour colleges and I encourage them to be all they can be. I promise them all, that no matter what, I'll always be there for them even after the checks stop coming. I am payed very well to hang out with kids. I make a difference. They may work my damned nerves, but when I watch each and every one of them grow into productive citizens, I know it will all be worth the meltdowns, the expensive coffee trips, the shopping sprees, and the birthday cakes we've made.

I've spent my whole life as a subject of speculation and rumors. I've learned to rise above it all. I've learned that if someone is going to let someone else tell them who and what I am, there's nothing I can do to change their mind and I'm not going to try. I'm going to continue to live my life and hold my head high. I am a beautiful woman who laughs, hugs, cries, and lives my life to the fullest. Who could want for more?

Day 3: My Parents

So far with this blog challenge, I try to think about what I'm going to write the day before I start writing to tell me what direction I should go in. But then I got to this doozy. Honestly, I don't know where to begin. I knew it was going to be short and lacking major detail because I'm finally coming to terms with my fucked up childhood and I don't really want to reopen the wounds that it took me so long to finally close. I guess I'll start with my mother. Um, this is hard. We don't get along. We never really have. As a child, I always promised myself that I'd never be like her to my kids. I swore that my child would never know disappointment and sadness from their mother as I did. I think I'm doing pretty good. I do, I always have, and I always will defend my son to the death. My son adores me and I adore him. I'll never play favorites. My son will ALWAYS know that he is loved. I will always support my son. I'm not going to throw checks at his problems the way my mother did. I don't talk to my mother because she brings me pain. She doesn't understand me, and she refuses to accept me the way I am. So the love I never got from her, I make sure to give my son. *Sigh* That's all I can really say without getting mad as hell and cursing.

Now on to dad. My dad and I are closer. I remember days where my sisters would call me fat and stupid. And I'd call my daddy. (oh lord, I'm crying now). My daddy told me that I wasn't fat and stupid. That I was beautiful and smart. My daddy showed me the love that my mother refused to. I can talk to my father about anything. My father showed me the love that a parent is supposed to show their child. While my mother encouraged me to drop out of college so that I could move out of her home, my dad pushed me to keep going. I've got a bachelor's degree because of him and I even gave him the diploma, which he hangs proudly in his home.

Those are my parents.

Day 2: My First Love

When I realized that this was the topic, I couldn't help but to smack my teeth. Like I haven't covered this fool back and forth on here. I spent the last few days figuring out how I'd tackle this one, because I wanted to focus moreso on he and I, not that tacky ass cheap alcoholic slut that he knocked up. However, unfortunately, I'd be remiss to not mention her, because honestly, she was always our biggest source of conflict. Over our decade together, we barely argued. I brushed off a lot of his rude (and often mean) comments, and most of our arguments boiled down to her. At first I didn't know how I'd feel about having to write this condensed version of things between us, but I'm glad that I did. I feel a lot better, now that I've done it. This was very therapeutic.

His name is David Julian Moore. We met when I was in 10th grade. I thought he looked kind of weird when I met him. We eventually became best friends and later boyfriend and girlfriend. He was my first. I cheated on my boyfriend at the time and lost my virginity to him. David continued to play the fence, so I left and slept with my actual boyfriend. The boyfriend thought I'd lost my virginity to him. It's not something that I'm proud of.

He was a self righteous asshole. I remember how much I wanted him to take me to my proms and he wouldn't, simply because it was something I wanted. To this day, sometimes I get choked up when I see kids going to their proms and I think about how my own boyfriend wouldn't even take me out of sheer evil. And then I begged him to come to my high school graduation. Again he refused. While at graduation, my little sister blabbed to me that my cousin had died. I was a wreck. I remember scanning the audience, looking for him. I'd hoped that he'd changed his mind and secretly waited in the audience to cheer me on. I needed him. He was the only one that really knew how I felt about her. I needed him. I needed him to hug me. To hold me. To tell me that things would be okay and that he understood how I felt. I needed him. Again, he wasn't there. To make matters worse, the next day, I went to his home. That bastard had the nerve to be on the phone with her and then got pissed at me because I wouldn't be quiet while he talked to the broad. My cousin had only been dead for a little over 24 hours and he couldn't even give me a little bit of undivided attention.

He continued with the head games. Actually, he played she and I against one another. He complained to me about her, and I'm sure he complained to her about me. Funny enough, his former best friend, Hassan, recently told me that he'd always felt that David favored me, it's just that he felt that he owed that ignorant bitch something, since the nasty hooker kept having miscarriages, due to her hypersexual past. Boo-fucking-hoo.

I dated other men when he and I would part ways for months at a time, but we always came back to one another. We were very familiar with one another. He got me. I never realized it until way later, but he was insecure as hell. I'd always had guy friends and I've always been open and upfront about that with David and any other man I've dated. David was still jealous of them. He was actually jealous of my female friends too. He felt that he should have my undivided attention. He didn't have a drivers license, nor did he have a job at the time. The overwhelming majority of our exploits were funded by me. So despite me giving him my all, if he felt that I gave anyone else a little too much attention, he made sure to tell me to quit.

After years of me feeding him when he was hungry and driving him around, he eventually got a good paying job. Because of his lack of a drivers license, I continued to drive him around. I have to admit, that once he had the money, he didn't mind spending it. I remember once saying how tacky I thought Valentine's presents were. He later admitted that he was actually about to get me some flowers for the day, but he didn't after my rant. The thought of it alone made my heart melt. He can be such an absolute ass that you learn to appreciate when he makes an effort. As we got older, our relationship matured. He could still be a huge pain in the ass, but he softened tremendously. It wasn't uncommon for him to camp out at my house for a week at a time. He had his own little drawer and kept underwear and sweaters over, in case he got called into work.

Eventually I told him that I couldn't deal with our half-assed relationship anymore. I wanted more. He knew my whole life. He knew my friends and family. He'd even spent that Thanksgiving with us. His baby mama and their kid lived in Virginia and I'd urge him to go see them and he declined. Despite our relationship, I'm totally pro family and I even told him to marry the slut. He always said firmly that he didn't see himself marrying her. (And I can totally see why now.) For the next few days he called and texted me several times a day. It's not that I didn't love him. I just didn't want to continue loving a man that couldn't and wouldn't take things further with me. I was 26 at the time. I knew that if I didn't do something, shit would stay the way it was forever. And I didn't want to do that. We'd been together for nearly 10 years as it was, without true commitment.

Things were totally over when his cumbucket found out that we were still seeing one another. Dude totally flipped. I couldn't even get the bastard on the phone. He would only text me. Ten years of driving him around, feeding him, hearing him berate and belittle me in front of my friends, calling me fat, mocking me and disrespecting me, and that sorry motherfucker wouldn't even pick up the fucking phone. I guess when I put it like that, I shouldn't be too surprised.

What hurt the most is that after everything, that bastard didn't even respect me enough to have a simple conversation. If he had just spoken to me and said that he needed to back up and take care of family, I'd have understood and respected it. Hell, I was the one that encouraged him to go see his family when he had three days off in a row, when he would refuse to. Instead, he accused me of not loving him because one morning after picking him up from work at 6:30, we got back to my apartment and I was so tired, that I told him I didn't feel like putting sheets on the bed. The negro that I'd lost my virginity to, driven around, fed, and supported for a fucking DECADE accused me of not loving him because I didn't put sheets on the motherfucking bed AFTER I'd picked his sorry ass up from work.

We talked a little later (finally) and I asked if he was going to marry her. Again he said no. I told him that the way he handled stuff was really shitty. He was silent. I occasionally text him still. The funny thing is that I know I was always way better for him than she was and I think they both know it as well. I no longer want to be with him though. After reading all of this, I can't believe I stuck around for 10 years. One of the girls I worked with was in a relationship similar to mine with David and I hoped and prayed that she didn't end up with her soul shattered the way I did. Thankfully, she and her douchebag broke up.

I don't know how I feel about him anymore. For a long time I'd imagine how I'd feel or react if I saw him again. Would I speak or mean mug him? Or would I ignore him? Would he look at me? Would he apologize? If he did apologize or wanted to talk, would I be willing to hear it? I'm not going to lie, Pookie and I have a lot of problems that we're working through. But sometimes I wonder what my life would have been like if I'd have had him instead of David for all those years. But I know that it's safe to say that I'm over David. He's a stranger to me. I think I forgive him, but I'll absolutely NEVER forget. As a matter of fact, he's a big part of what made me tell Pookie to commit to me. I told him that I'd been through 10 years of one half assed relationship and 4 years of one with him and I wasn't going to spend all of my 30's in one. Pookie manned up and stepped up to the plate. Looking back, I'm glad it was Pookie.

David never deserved a woman like me.

Day 1: Introduce Myself

So I saw on the blog of my homie Kingsmomma something about a 30 day blog challenge. I asked her about it, so she forwarded me the email. I looked over it and decided that I'd do it myself. So here goes.

My name is Malika Fl.owers and I'm 30 years old. I am a gemini and a mother of a fantastic 2-year-old boy who will be 3 in september. I live with his father who is also my boyfriend. It is strange for me to call him that. We've only been committed for a couple of weeks now, but so far so good. He and I have had a long road, but I love him more than he'll ever know and I look forward to see how things will be with us.

Personality-wise, I'm a tried and true wiseass. I am extremely sarcastic and I don't back down easily from challenges. I'm a proud woman and I hate stupidity.

I live in Atlanta, Georgia. I am a graduate of Kennesaw State University, where I majored in Communications with a concentration in Media studies. I chose Kennesaw after I'd been at Life University and I realized that I hated it. Many of the students there talked about Kennesaw like it was the promised land, so I decided to go there. I remember how much I cried when I found out that I'd been accepted. I learned a lot going to Kennesaw and I will always treasure the education I received there.

I currently work as a social worker. I work with children that have behavioral problems. I initially got my job through my dad because after graduating, I couldn't find anything. It quickly became a labor of love. I would do my job for free. The youngest child I worked with was 6 years old, and the oldest was a girl that just graduated high school. The coolest thing about my job is getting to work with kids and let them know that I once was once where they are and that they can go far if they try. I'm pretty much like family to the parents I work with. The kids really get me and I get them. One of the girls was actually not covered, but I continued to stay with her anyway. Some of the kids I would actually adopt if I could and had to. I love my job. I'd like to do more of it so I am about to take the GRE so that I can get my master's degree and make even more money in my field.

In my spare time I like to sleep. Seriously. However when you have children that isn't much of an option. Slightly before my 30th birthday I decided that I tired of being overweight so I've started dieting and exercising. I've lost about 10 lbs and I recently jogged a mile and a half straight, which is quite an accomplishment for me since up I'd always led a lazy lifestyle. I also like to write. I have a blog (obviously) and I also write for Kreativesouls.com and Flaimahmy.com.

Okay, I guess that describes me. So far so good on day one.

Have the Rules of Relationships Changed?

I blogged a while ago about my friend Mr. Davis and how we'd reconnected after a long absence. I admitted that back in the day I'd had a major crush on him. We've again started talking on the phone and like always, he's a total joy to speak with. The other day I joked with him about him "rejecting" me back in the day. He told me that he'd never known that I had a crush on him. I marveled at how he could have missed it. Afterall, I did travel across the country to see him. I've never done that crap for anyone. As a matter of fact, my ex David was kind of pissed that I'd went and said that he didn't think I'd make the same kind of trip for him (he was so right). I followed him to various venues in Atlanta, where there were only 3 other people in the crowd. I watched him build up his fan base and I gladly bragged on him to anyone that would listen. How could he have missed it?

Anyway, Davis and I agreed to get together to hang. We spent the whole night laughing and talking platonically. Then it got late and I asked if I could crash for a few hours. Long story short, the option came up for us to dance the horizontal Tootsie Roll.

God only knows how much I wanted to. But I told him that Pookie and I were trying to head toward the whole "relationship" thing and that it wouldn't be cool for me to do what my vagina was begging to do. I told him that by sleeping with another guy, I would be implying that I wasn't serious about committing to Pookie. He said that Pookie would never know. I told him that I would know, and that me being the terrible liar that I am, it would only be a matter of time before it came out.

I got home at 3:30 and Pookie was wide awake in the living room, playing video games. He claimed he'd caught a second wind (riiight). He asked how it went. I looked at him and told him that nothing happened with me and Davis. Afterward, I'd asked him if he was ready to stop pussyfooting around and make things official with me. Eventually, we agreed to officially enter into a relationship.

I talked to a couple of my girlfriends about my night with him. I expressed frustration about dreaming of that very opportunity but then having to turn it down for what wasn't even an official relationship at the time. A few of my girlfriends said that I should have done it anyway. They said that after all of the crap I've been through with Pookie, that I was well within my right to do what I what I wanted. I expressed to them that yeah, I've been through a lot of shit, but how could I expect to move forward and have a serious relationship if I had no regard for it?

That's when it occurred to me that perhaps relationships have changed and I'm just one of the last to know. I mean, yeah, I had a lot of fun fooling around with Fred. He was beautiful, smart, funny and when I was with him I wasn't reminded of the responsibility that I have at home. And then there was Davis the man that I'd desired since the first time I lay eyes on him 5 years ago, as he performed in Apache. But would a few moments of pleasure really be worth not being able to keep my family together? Absolutely not.

So perhaps relationships are different now and I'm just the last one to know. Maybe I put more emphasis into my family than average people and that makes me some kind of sexually depraved freak of nature. Or maybe I'm just the kind of woman that would put my own pleasures to the side, for the sake of building my family and making it the best and strongest it can be. Yep, I think I might just be the latter.

Annivesaries, Run-Ins and Fantasia

Pookie and I celebrated our 4th anniversary about a week ago and things are pretty good. Actually that wasn't the case a few weeks ago. We had one of our knock down drag out arguments. Words were said, feelings were hurt, doors were slammed. Like I've been so many times in the past, I was done and I wanted out.

Like always, he managed to calm me down and talk to me and got me to talk back to him. He admitted that he's been a huge asshole and that he's taken out a lot of his frustration on me. I told him that I'd heard it all before. He admitted that although he doesn't always show it, he knows that I've always held him down and been there for him. I'd never heard him admit to that one before, but I remained skeptical. He told me that he was tired of the fighting and the arguing. He told me what he needed from me. He said that he knows he'd said it all before, but he really wants us to be better to one another. If for no one else, for Pumpkin.

That night, I went into his bedroom. I was skeptical. I went because, candidly, sometimes sex manages to be a good temporary bandage for the issues we both bring to the party. Afterwards he said to me that he doesn't want me to be with other men and he won't be with any other women. I agreed.

I didn't think about it until the next day, but I didn't know (and I still don't know) what it meant. Are we "a couple"? Can we still date and flirt with others? Are we still "single"? I want to ask questions, but I'm kind of scared to do so. I don't know if I want answers. Truthfully, there is also a small part of me that kind of doesn't want to settle just yet. I kind of wonder if he saw me pulling away physically and wanted to pull me back in. I don't know. But I do know that I love him and I love my son. I love my family. Period.

Yes, I've got homegirls in my ear telling me that I should leave and not look back. I'm not delusional. Far from it. Honestly, I think I'm one of the most realistic women I know. No one knows Pookie better than me. I've seen him at his best and at his worst. I've seen him grow. I'm actually proud of him. But I remain ready to haul ass if I need to.

Another anniversary just passed for me. July 30th was the one year anniversary of the death of my cousin, Jarronn. His widow posted something on her blog here. I didn't expect that day to be so hard for me. I kept reliving in my mind how I learned he died and our last phone conversation. I only met his widow once before he died and unfortunately I couldn't make it up to his wedding (who would have guessed that less than 3 months later he'd be gone?) Actually, I may have had a premonition. Whenever I spoke about Jarronn's wedding, I kept having a strange verbal slip and saying "Jarronn's funeral". I'd said it about 4 times when speaking to my mom about the possibility of us driving up for his wedding. I've got a gift for communicating with the dead, so maybe I knew something subconsciously after all.

Either way, when I read her blog, it reminded me of how much I loved Pookie all over again. She's so brave and strong, I don't know what I'd do if I learned that Pookie wasn't coming home. I get teared up when I think about what would undeniably be the worst day of my life. I know that my cousin would appreciate knowing that his death has served to remind me to love the one I'm with.

***

On our anniversary, I'd suddenly had a huge craving for cupcakes from the bakery that Daisy hipped me to. I hit my neighbor Barbie and told her that she was selected to escort me on my cupcake run. I hauled ass down Peachtree and nearly killed us a few times, but we managed to make it before they closed.

As we stood in line, I quickly knew what I wanted. Barbie took a moment to decide. That's when I looked up and saw her. Holy. Fucking. Shit. It was Pookie's ex-wife. What the fuck? What the hell are we doing here? She walked into the store next to us. I prayed she didn't see me and prayed we didn't run into her on the way back out. We got into the car and noticed that she'd parked next to the car. Great. I was about to haul ass, but before I'd seen her, my plan was to sit in the car and scarf my incredible pastry. I told Barbie that I wanted to stay and eat, despite the awkward situation and Barbie told me to stay there and eat my damned cupcake. The funny thing is that when I'm nervous and upset, I don't eat. I'm known for going days on end not eating when things are really bad. So here I sit, spending money on a cupcake and not even wanting to lick the delectable buttercream frosting off of it.

We sat in the car and talked as Barbie finished her cupcake and I stared blankly at mine. That cinnamon swirly piece of heaven may as well have been a plank of wood, that's how little I wanted it. Crap. Eventually she came over to her car. I held my breath. "Hey Malika!" she shouted. What the hell does she want from me, was all I could think. "Hi" I weakly said back. "I see you like the cupcakes here too" she said. "Yeah, they're good," I said through clenched teeth. She made some other small talk before walking around to her car. "Hi, Malika's friend" she said to Barbie. "I see you're enjoying your cupcake. Yeah, Malika and I are old acquaintances" she said before getting into her car.

It wasn't until she was gone that I'd realized that it was me and Pookies anniversary. What the hell are the odds of running into his EX-WIFE on our anniversary? The more I thought about it, the more aggravated I got. What the hell did she speak for? We're not friends. We aren't homies. We're not fucking sorority sisters. Who gives a damn about my cupcake? Why bother to speak to my friend and tell her we're "old acquaintances"? For the record, I'd told Barbie who she was before she'd even opened her trap to us. I'm not one of those fake broads with my nose in the air that acts like my shit don't stink. I had a kid by her husband. I did it, I apologized for it, I paid for it. But I'm not going to spend the rest of my damned life with a red A on my chest because of it.

The more I thought about it, the more aggravated I got. Why the fuck did she speak? She doesn't like me, with good reason. And I don't like her, for what I believe are also good reasons. So there we sit. We are two women that clearly don't like one another. Why bother with the fake niceness? If Barbie hadn't been with me, I probably would have said as nicely as I could muster that she and I don't like one another, so there's no reason to stop and speak like we grew up in the same fucking Girl Scout troop. But for now, our encounter remains what it was...

***

While onto the subject of other women's husbands, I thought I'd touch on the whole Fantasia thing too. Being that I've been upfront about having been with a married man, I couldn't help but to touch on her issue. It's so easy to throw stones. But until you've been wooed by a married man, you'll never know. Married men don't tell a woman "I love my wife and I just want to fuck you." No, they tell you how unhappy they are, and how they want a divorce, but they're waiting on *insert blank bullshit excuse here* and the other woman can't help but to love it. Often, men don't tell the other woman that they're married until it's too late and she's in love with him.

So imagine Fantasia, thinking that she's standing by her man, thinking that she'd prove the world wrong. I'm sure dude really gassed her up to think that she's better than his current wife. I'm sure he told her he loved her and dicked her down like she's never been dicked down before. It's hard enough to love a married man, but try loving him with every urban blog on the planet tracking your every move like you're Bennifer all over again. And then to have the other woman sue you for a few million dollars, when the only thing you're guilty of is falling in love with a man that pursued you first?

She tried to kill herself and she's got a kid. I know she didn't want to leave her child. Sometimes you just do what sometimes comes impulsively and don't think about things in the long haul. I am by no means a Fantasia fan. But I'm with her in spirit.

***

So anyway, those kind of encompass my thoughts for the last few weeks. Those and the banging ass party that Dwight threw. So I'm off to work now. Holla!!

I Partied With Dwight Eubanks

Man, yesterday was magic. The day started out with me being pissed at Pookie. We're in a bit of a transitional phase where we may be leaning toward doing the commitment thing and I was pissed about something. The whole day I kept saying that perhaps I was bugging, but I couldn't exactly put my finger on how. That's when I decided to hit up Kelsy and ask his advice.

Kelsy is such a guy's guy, that I knew he'd be able to shed a little light on the situation. Sure enough, Kelsy was right, I was tripping and I needed to cool out. I got home and walked up to Pookie and wrapped my arms around him and apologized. He looked at me and said "do you want to talk?" I nodded and we went back to his bedroom. While there, I admitted to him that Kelsy, my uuber crush for so long, was the one that convinced me that I was tripping. After we'd briefly talked, Pookie told me that he'd gotten some fresh intel that Dwight Eubanks of the Real Housewives of Atlanta was having a party and asked if I wanted to go. I'm not much of a fan of the other Housewives shows in the franchise, but i couldn't help but to love the Atlanta series.

I'd seen one of the episodes that featured a party of Dwight's and ever since then, I'd wanted to go to one. I mean really wanted to go to one. I loved how much attention he'd paid to detail. Portia and I had agreed that we'd look around online and see if we could work our ways into one.
As soon as I'd heard him say Dwight Eubanks, I started going through my mental closet of what to wear for the night. Pookie said that the party was private and that he'd gotten word on it from the dj, who was a Facebook friend and casual associate. We didn't really know what to expect. I made sure that I was looking fly, despite my huge fear that we'd get there and immediately be identified and escorted out as party crashers.

We got on down there, and walked in to his salon, where it was held. We were met by two Amazonian models, that told us to go on in. We walked straight to the bar. Pookie was surprised to discover that the bartenders weren't charging for drinks, they were simply working for tips (YES!!) While in line, I examined the room and saw beautiful people and immediately started to feel a tad out of place. Did we belong? The man behind me patted me on the back. I was afraid to turn around, for fear that he'd say to me "who the hell are YOU?!" But he didn't. He simply waved at me and told me that I looked nice. *whew* I returned the compliment by telling him that I loved the bright red shirt he wore. After the drinks kicked in, Pookie and I hit the dance floor. I've been jogging lately, and I'd been anxious to hit a club and see how my endurance on a dance floor would go. I figured that if I can jog a mile straight now, an hour or two on a dance floor couldn't be too bad. I was right. Pookie and I danced our asses off.

After a while, we decided to head outside and get some air. Pookie headed back inside for something, and a homeless man approached me and asked if I had any cash. I told him I didn't. He sat there and continued to stare at me. I told him again that I was strapped. He told me that he was hungry. I apologized and swore to him that if I had it, I'd give him a few bucks. A moment later, a party goer walked outside with a plate of food. Again, the man looked at me. I relented and agreed to ask if I could give him a plate.

I went inside, looking for Dwight, who'd been on the dance floor the whole night. Now that man can dance. He was a sweaty mess, but I swear he was still together as ever. Not a single hair was out of place. I found him, standing near Pookie. I waited until he was done talking to his associates and asked him if I could give a plate to a homeless man outside. I can't deny, I expected him to be touched by my act of kindness. Instead, he told me no, I could not do that. To do that would encourage the man and other homeless people to come around and seek food and money. Dwight explained that all of the homeless people in the area knew he didn't give out food. I shrugged and told him that I understood, and that was why I asked him to begin with. I guess I can say that probably the ONLY good thing to come from my roommate's skank. Her lack of home training made me aware of how important it is to mind my manners while in someone else' space. I knew that despite me wanting to do the "right" thing, it wasn't my food, I didn't pay for it, and i was in someone else's party so all I could do was to ask. I was told no, I moved on.
More than anything, I didn't want to get caught giving out food and risk pissing off Dwight. His party was so banging, that if he said that in order to attend another one we had to go hunting homeless people, I'd ask if he preferred we use a rifle or a bow and arrow. I was NOT going to risk being uninvited for a homeless person I don't know. I'm just not that nice.

Pookie joined me back outside a few minutes later, and we ran into a friend of his. He introduced me as his "old lady." I looked at him and said "so I've got a title now?" He shrugged his shoulders. Men...

We went back in and separated when I went to the rest room. I'm not even going to mention the two men I saw coming out of the bathroom together. Anyway, when I got back out, I found Pookie who was talking to some guy. He introduced us and the man said that because he was sweaty, he'd simply give me an air kiss instead. I asked the guy what he was eating, and he told me that they had shrimp and grits in the back and he advised me to get some. Anyone that knows how I feel about seafood would understand how gracefully yet quickly I hauled ass over there to get some. There were also fried green tomatoes, and spring salad. That's right. On top of drinks that you only tipped on, he had REAL food, not just tortilla chips and salsa. Pookie later told me that the guy told him that he was Dwight's manager, and he gave Pookie his email address and promised to put him on the email list so that we could go to more parties. We decided to hit the dance floor again. After a couple more dances, we called it a quits and agreed to go home. The whole night was like a dream.

Late that evening, I updated my Facebook page to announce that I'd been to a party of Dwight's and said that you haven't seen a real party until you've been to one given by him. Portia called me that afternoon. The first thing out of her mouth was "YOU BITCH!! I can't believe you went to a Dwight Eubanks party and you didn't invite me!!" After much begging and pleading and explaining to her that we half expected to get kicked out, which is why we didn't announce our plans to the world before we got there, she slightly cooled. Although she did refer to me as a trick on Facebook. I guess it didn't help that I put so much emphasis on how spectacular the party was when describing it to her.

After the fact, when I reflected on the whole thing, I realized how awesome Dwight must really be. He didn't give the party to try to make money, he didn't scrutinize the people he didn't know, he didn't have a rigid dress code (as evidenced by a few of the under dressed people I'd seen), and he spent real money on the liquor and food. Pookie also told me that they'd only thrown the party together the night before. That man is so fantastic that he threw together the best party I've ever been to in only 24 hours. I was considering getting my hair twisted at his salon before, but now I'm leaning toward going even more.

So anyway, another fabulous say in the fabulous life of Malika. Yep, you want to be me.

Baby Mama Drama

My homie "Nikki" hit me today and we caught up on old times. Nikki is one of those friends whose life I like to live vicariously through. She is beautiful, smart, funny and men are drawn to her. She doesn't have any children and I often joke with her about how the Facebook updates of the super-single-fabulous-sistas always says that they're out of down in Miami or Orlando while the women that have children are always updating that they're about to kill their kids.

Anyway, Nik told me that she's got a guy that's trying to get with her. She's already told him that he has to court her (I am so not mad at her for demanded that he woo her). The only problem is that the clown has a crazy baby mama. Nik told me that a few years back the woman called her with some crazy drama and they "teamed up" and went in on the dude. Nik fell back, but she remained friends with the dude. Fast forward a few years, and he's now wanting her. Lo and behold, over the weekend, old girl called her again. Nik wasn't going for the bull and told her to get lost. The chick called her repeatedly over the weekend hoping for some mess but, ever the lady, my homie wasn't hearing it.

Once again, because of that crazy bitch Chloe, I was well equipped to tell my friend what the deal was (although truthfully, Nik was handling it well on her own anyway). I told her that first off, if she's still doing all of that mess after the kid is nearly 10, he's got to be doing something to encourage it. He may have had a moment where he told old girl that they had a chance in the future during a soft moment and old girl took it and ran. I mean, seriously, its easiest for a man to wife up his baby mom. Hell, they're a ready made family. So I can imagine a man kicking it with his child and the mother and having a good time, and him saying to her in passing that the day wasn't so bad and maybe if things like that keep up, they can be together in the future. Now to him, he may have just been talking shit, but to HER what he said was "if you stick around long enough, eventually we'll get married."

Nik did understand that somewhere or somehow, someone was lying, but frankly she wasn't going to waste time figuring out who it was. I told her my own stories of what it's like to get text messages from someone pretending to be your friend. I told her how my ex's baby mom calls me periodically from blocked numbers, and how she's come on my blog commenting. I even told her how sad it is that at one point she even sent me her ADDRESS hoping that I'd come pick up my ex. I empathized with her struggle. Baby mama's think they're so slick that they'll do some ignorant mess where the pretend to be your friend, only to try to pump you for info to then use it against you. My friend marveled at how a woman in her 30's could be so childish. All I could do was nod in agreement.

I'm just glad that Nik is cool and smart enough to not feed into the drama. She kept saying that if the man hadn't married his baby mom in nearly 10 years, he's obviously not going to. It's like Nik is nearly thinking for me at this point. I told her try a chick who's chasing a guy for 15 years and still no ring. Nik also felt that it was sad that the chick obviously went in on EVERY CHICK dude ever tried to get with. She commented on how selfish she was to not even allow him to be happy with another woman. I guess that's where I can say that emotionally I'm far more mature than my ex's baby mama, because at least with Pookie, I love him enough to let him seriously persue a relationship with another woman. It wasn't easy, but there have been times where I've stepped aside and allowed him the freedom to date another woman and I granted him my blessing. A woman that finds it necessary to fight every woman a man likes obviously has insecurity issues to battle.

So anyway, Nikki is willing to see where things are going, but only if dude gets his house in order first. It's kind of sad. Those ignorant skeezers are so insecure and sad, they make things hard for us real women. Sigh.