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!!!
Monday, October 27, 2008
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?
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.
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.
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 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.
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.
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! ;)
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! ;)
Monday, September 29, 2008
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.
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.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
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.
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.
Monday, August 18, 2008
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 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.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
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?
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?
Thursday, August 14, 2008
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.
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.
Monday, August 11, 2008
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.
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.
Sunday, August 3, 2008
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.
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.
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