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.

Political Ambition

Last night Pookie looked at the City of Atlanta Employee Credit Union website to check his account. He was surprised to see on the front page that the CEO of the bank had passed away. Pookie recalled seeing the man around several times in the past, and seemed taken aback by the whole thing. I asked how he died. Pookie said that their statement read that he'd died "suddenly." This morning when I got up and checked Mediatakeout.com I saw an entry that said "Prominent MARRIED Black CEO Gets SHOT AND KILLED In NOTORIOUS GAY PARK!! (Help SOLVE The Mystery) and I automatically knew what it was about. I opened it and sure enough was a picture of the man from last night. Pookie read the article and seemed disturbed. He said the whole thing was terrible and he didn't want to think about it anymore.
I looked at another blog I frequent, where they'd had more details on the case. I commented on how sad the whole thing was, but then I went back and half jokingly said that dude's funeral and services held in Atlanta would definitely feature a who's who of Black political Atlanta and would be a fantastic networking opportunity. I even joked about thinking about buying a new black dress for the occasion.

The more time went on, the more I thought about it. Although I'd never have the cajones to run up into a funeral of a prominent stranger with the intentions of just making connections, I started thinking about how much I would love to run within the circles that would be attending this funeral. Because I grew up in a household where my mother had moderate political connections due to her job at the Centers for Disease Control, I'd always had it in the back of my mind that I'd like to be more concerned with the social political circle in Atlanta as well. My first time seriously thinking about it was when I watched Black in America on CNN and they showed a black tie affair where many young Black college students and graduates were encouraged to mingle with older Black professionals. Everyone on tv looked so polished and poised that I said to myself that I'd like to step into that arena. The thought had kind of left me until the thought of the CEO's funeral came about.

While out with Pookie at the National Black Arts Festival over the weekend, I saw somewhere something about a gala that they'd held earlier for the event. I looked at him and said that the gala sounded like a lot of fun and that I would look at getting tickets for us next year. While in the car today, I told Pookie that I would like to be more active in the political scene in Atlanta. Like always, he seemed skeptical. I explained to him the benefits of us being in the loop.

I told him how when I was younger, my parents always knew at least one person that worked at the schools my sisters and I attended. My mother knew the principal at my elementary school through our church. At the time, we were members of Ben Hill, which in the 80's was the equivalent to New Birth or World Changers today. My mother also knew the owners of the pre-school I attended before we'd started going there (again, through the church). I also explained to Pookie how wonderful it would be if we could keep an eye on our child through the many personal connections we already have. If we joined "the loop" we'd be that much more aware if Pumpkin started running in bad circles. We'd be sure to get a phone call, which is what any concerned parent would want. I didn't even think about it until later, but we'd be a shoe-in to get Pumpkin into a good charter school if we had connections in the right spot.

I told Pookie that in part my desire rose from seeing my mother in the loop. He looked at me and said that her job with CDC would in no way lead her to Atlanta politics since her job was for the feds. That's when I told him that my mother was also a member of a group that at the time was called Blacks In Government or BIG for short. Granted, my parents were no Barack and Michelle, but they certainly were known when and where they wanted to be. They may not have been on a first name basis with the mayors, they'd met them all a few times and I believe that my mother may have known the former mayor's ex-husband personally.

I said to Pookie that working our way into inner circles would be a bit of a financial investment first. We'd have to attend galas, balls, fundraisers, and a few political gatherings to make it into the loop. Hopefully once we've worked our ways in and gotten on some mailing lists we can receive our own invites without seeking them out. Then there is also the coffee shop that I used to be a regular at that held a few big names. I remember once seeing Shirley Franklin (former mayor) stop in. Not to mention Black real estate investors, lawyers, doctors, architects, and more frequented that place. I think it's time for me to stop back in.

Coincidentally enough, while I was in the car, I'd heard the dj say someone that worked for the City called her from a department that seemed like something I could possibly work for with my degree in communication. Or I'd even started thinking that I could work for the city in the field of social work once I get my master's degree. Either way, I'd love to have a position working for the city.

Some people might be scared or anxious at the thought of taking on the challenge of rolling with the Black and connected in Atlanta, but the fact is that I've always been pretty social and whenever I've wanted to work myself into a crowd before, I always did. Just like I sought to do, I became active and rolling with Black Nationalists, I'd worked myself into Atlanta's major music scene, and I even managed to become homies with Atlanta's underground music scene. Hell if I can do that, why can't I hobnob with the political wives and their children?

Anyway, I asked Pookie if he'd be willing to be may date at some of these functions as I try to work my way into the political circles. He actually said to me "it would be a good chance to network." I decided that either Pookie or Portia will be my date for those kind of events.

So look out Atlanta politicians. There is a bug-eyed girl with big plans of becoming your new best friend.

Reunited and It Feels SO Good

Okay, I'll be the first to admit that I have stalkerish tendencies. I don't mean to, I really don't. It's just that when stuff fascinates me, it really fascinates me. So it's no surprise that while out with my homie Scorpio a few years ago, I saw this guy who mesmerized me (okay, yes I fall in lust often and yes I've fallen for a bunch of different guys, don't judge me). His name was Kelsy Davis and he played with is band, the Radical Soul. He played with a live band and he commanded the audience unlike anything I've ever seen. I knew that I was in lust when I saw him throw the Black Power fist. I was gone.

Slowly over the next few months I came to see him perhaps a dozen times or more all over the city. I actually saw him at one performance when he shouted me out from the stage and thanked me for my support. Another time I talked to him while I was going through my breakup with David, I spoke to him before his show and told him that I was having a tough time. While on stage he gave me a special shout out and told me things would be okay. I got so emotional that I ran to the bathroom to cry.

One day I finally worked up the nerve to ask him out. He was performing at the Black Arts Festival and asked him if we could get together one day. That's when he told me he had a girlfriend. I'll never forget how I rode the train home and sobbed my eyes out. My heart was heavy.

As time went on, he and I remained in touch and we eventually became friends although I'd kept my soft spot for him. I remember how one day my best friend said that he was coming over and holy shit, Kelsy was with him. Before they got there I was on my way to bed, but when they got there I cooked to my heart's content. He even asked for seconds. He was so hot.

A while later I realized that I hadn't seen Kelsy in a while so I dropped him an email to ask how he'd been. He wrote back and said he'd moved to L.A. to further his career. I booked my flight a week later. He was pretty surprised to see me at the club he was performing at in Hollywood. He told me that he'd been homesick so it felt good for him to see a face from Atlanta. When he moved back, we managed to get together a few times to hang out. As time went on, he told me that he moved back to care for his sick mother.

Around the same time, I got pregnant with Pumpkin. Kelsy and I grew more and more distant. Being that I'm not a doctor or nurse, I couldn't help him with a sick mother. As a friend, all I knew how to do was to take him out so that he could talk if he wanted to, or get away from the whole thing if he wanted to. But every time I asked if he wanted to get away, he grew flustered with me. I knew he was hurting, but as his friend, the only thing I could offer was time. At one point I wanted to name Pumpkin after him, but Pookie was not going to hear me naming our child after a man I had the hots for. I called Kelsy and told him that I wanted to name my son after him. He blankly asked me "why?" It's not like I didn't have a good reason to name my child after him. Kelsy was smart, outgoing, artistic, a man of the people, athletic and he had a bunch of wonderful qualities. But after his blah response to my thinking of naming my son after him, I decided against it (not like Pookie would allow it anyway).

The last time I had talked to him was after I'd had the baby. I called and announced the news. And Kelsy said "Okay." He didn't say "congratulations" or "good work" or ask about the health, name, or weight of my precious arrival. He simply said "okay." At that point, I knew that the Kelsy I knew and loved was gone.

Later on I asked Portia what it is like to have a sick parent. She admitted that when her dad Fred "Rerun" Berry got sick before he died, she was in a similar state. She said that there is something about having a sick parent that takes you away from reality.

***

I periodically wondered how he'd been. The other people that knew him said that he'd been distant with them too, so no one knew where or how he was. Then on Saturday, while I was at the Black Arts Festival they announced that he'd be performing the next day. I grew nervous. I wanted to see him, but I didn't know if he'd want to see me. On Sunday, I went back down with Pumpkin, Pookie, and ran into my homie Roderick. After Kelsy's performance, I walked to backstage and I saw him from a distance, but I ended up running into another friend that I talked to.

I told Roderick that I think Kelsy saw me, but he didn't want to speak. Roderick urged me to call Kelsy's name. The whole time we walked toward him, but I really wanted to walk away. I looked at Roderick and said "I'm gonna blog about this." I called his name. He looked up and he actually smiled. He smiled at me! He came on over and we spoke. He asked how I'd been and I asked how he'd been. I asked about his mother. He told me she'd died a year ago. I offered my condolences. He responded with "shit happens." Later I actually got to introduce him to my son.

I thought that the next time I spoke to Kelsy that I would let him know how hurt I was about the last time we talked. But somehow, hearing him say that his mother passed erased everything. He was in a good place. And as his friend, that's all I wanted.

I got my friend, Kelsy, back.

*Le Sigh*

So as I'd proudly shouted from rooftops before, I'd started up my fling again with "Fred" after a few years of a hiatus. When I got home tonight, I called him and we made plans to rendevous later. Now a few weeks ago when we talked he mentioned that he was hanging with "a girlfriend" and I didn't think much of it. Tonight, when I asked about tomorrow night, he mentioned hanging with "(his) girlfriend." So anyway, we went ahead and made plans for tonight.

But then my wheels started spinning. Did he just refer to her as his girlfriend or was he referring to her as a female friend? I called him back to ask. That's when he said that he's seeing her regularly. I asked if she knew that he had "friends" on the side. He asked why. I told him that I didn't want to be a part of any deception. That's when he sent me a text saying "Well that's cool, we don't have to have sex anymore."

CRAP!!

Did I really just make the responsible decision for some chick that I don't even know? It's not even about her. It's moreso about me. Between Pookie and my ex David and a few other guys, I've played the side chick before and it never really bugged me. I'd always felt that sex was between me and the guy and if he had a girlfriend, well that shit had nothing to do with me. But somehow, this time, I just can't. I can't. I think it's more about age. I'm 30 for God's sake and he's even older. Frankly, we're too damned old to not be straight up with whoever and whatever we're doing. While driving earlier today I started to focus on my life. And I realized that I'm truly happier now than I've ever been in my life. I've got so much peace, and happiness, and understanding.

Somehow I know that if I fall back into the habit of doing chickenhead shit, all I'm doing is blocking my cosmic blessing. I'm not going to act like I'm on some "holier than thou" shit. Straight up, I'm thinking about running over there tonight and giving our thing a proper finale before ending it all. If it doesn't go down tonight, it'll be over. For good. Even if I do go over there tonight, after the fact, there will be no more.

I hit Daisy up to complain about having to end it. She asked me if he and I were still going to hang. The thing is that Fred and I are a part of my big clique of homies. I told her that despite me wanting to hump his leg like a bitch in heat, when we're out he and I will still be cool. He and I have a cool history and despite this road block, we're still folks.

So anyway, I gotta end things with Fred. Damn I don't want to. I just know that I'm not the same Malika that I was 10 or even 5 years ago. I don't want to be a part of lies and deception and games. If I enter into a sexual contract with a man, I expect him to be straight up with me and all of the chicks he's banging. It just sucks that I gotta give up what I want for the greater good.

*Le sigh*

Re-Emergence

Within the last few months I've come out of my shell a bit more. Since I'm now blessed enough to have a job, I've rejoined my friends. I go to clubs. I buy new clothes. I hit the gym regularly. I've got good friends. I've re-emerged.

Now that my son is nearly 3 and he's not as dependent on me and his father is more able to help out with our son, I'm finally free to rejoin the world. You can't imagine how much I'd missed this. How for the last few years all of my time was spent as Malika the Mom. Now I'm free to be Malika the Sexpot and Malika the Party Girl. It feels awesome. Daisy has been kind enough to aid me into my journey back into the world. She and I have been so close lately. I'm actually pretty happy about that, and she's even helped me a lot in many of my professional decisions.

As part of my re-emergence, I've decided that my friends and I should go tubing. As always, my more conventional friends declined, but my earthy and artsy friends are down for the ride. Truth be told, I wouldn't have it any other way. So in a few days Daisy, Roderick, Greg, Solomon and myself will be headed to Helen, Georgia to shoot down the Hooch (that's Chattahoochee River for my out of town readers).

I've even been hitting the gym. Lord it's hard to lose weight now. That's okay though, I'm going to keep trying anyway. When I go, I prefer to play racquetball, then I hit an elliptical, do some abdominal training, and then I finish it off with a jog. I'm actually able to run half a mile now, which is quite a feat for me. My goal is to be able to run for a full mile. I'm not even winded when I'm done now.

For a bit of a confession, I've decided that for now at least, I'll probably continue things with the guy that I'll call "Fred." He's like sexual kryptonite to me. I swear he's like a real life Axe commercial. Funny enough, my home girls agree that he's a hottie, but I'm the only one drawn to him like flies to honey. He and I will have a totally normal and non-sexual conversation, and by the end I'm ready to put my panties in his mouth. Our relationship back in the day was purely sexual, so lately we're getting to know each other more as individuals, which is making me want to hump him that much more.

Not to say that there is no love between me and Pookie. Pookie is and always will be the love of my life. But there is something about being able to be Malika again. I missed her. I think she missed me too.

So anyway, look out world, Malika is BACK and she's back with a vengeance.

My FOC Part II

So I was on the phone the other day with my bestie, Portia, when I told her about the conversation about me and Pookie and him wanting us to get married if I got pregnant. I said to her that I knew it might shock her, but I had a fear of commitment. That's when Portia, in her infinite wisdom, said "of course I knew you were afraid of commitment."

I actually grew defensive. "How the hell did you know that I was afraid of commitment?!" I demanded. She responded with "Malika, you've been in two long relationships and you've never demanded a commitment. Why else would that be?" Man, I hate it when people figure me out. Again, I said "I can't believe you knew I feared commitment." Portia responded with something about me not even being able to commit to one lip gloss. That's when I retorted with "I commit to ALL of my lip glosses!"

The lip gloss quip came after a Facebook post I'd made a while ago when I said that I'd broken my previous record of how many lip glosses I'd had in my purse at one time, by having ten in there. Honestly, its not something that I set out to do, I just have a passion for lip gloss. It's awesome how just a little bit can pull your face together. Anyway, at my birthday party, someone asked how many lip glosses I'd had in my purse at the time and I pulled out six. Which is what brought Portia to mention it.

Portia saying that brought me to once again contemplating on the whole thing. She was totally right, I'd never demanded a relationship from either guy. I've told Pookie that I don't like how he does some things, but at no point in our nearly 4 years together did I ever look him in the eye and demand a relationship. We've teeterd on the idea of marriage, by the old "if we aren't married by a certain age" conversation, but we never seriously wanted talked about it. And then there's my ex. There were actually times that I'd wanted to marry him, but again, I never seriously said to him that we needed a commitment until the end.

Portia theorized that I didn't want to relinquish control, but that wasn't it at all. I just never wanted to be tied down. Period. My lifelong friend Courtney says that it's just those guys that I don't want to marry. I don't know how right that is. There were times during my brief thing with Him where I felt that I could spend forever with him. But imagination and reality are totally different things. Sure, in theory he'd be a great husband, but there were some pivotal things that Pookie possesses that Him lacked.

I started briefly chatting with a guy that graduated from my high school a year before me. We linked up on Facebook. For a short (very short) while I told myself how cute it would be if we got together and had kids. But it wasn't too long before I realized that dude was crazy as hell, so I had to abandon that one quickly. That appears to be my modus operandi. I meet a guy, briefly entertain forever, we eventually tick each other off, and I'm back to square one.

Maybe in the end, I will just wrap up the dating thing and marry Pookie. No rush though. Commitments don't seem to be all they're cracked up to be.

Fear of Commitment

The other day, I asked Pookie if he'd want me to get an abortion if I got pregnant again. Despite what I expected to hear him say, he said "I probably shouldn't say this, but I'd say 'screw it, let's get married.' " You'd probably think that I was saying to myself "YES, THIS IS IT!!" however, my internal dialogue was saying that if I hadn't had so many problems with birth control in the past, I'd immediately go back on it.

It's not that I don't love him. I've told him more than once that if he ever fell ill or got seriously injured, I'd stick by him no matter what. It's not that he's not a great father. He cooks and cleans, and teaches our son so much. It's not that he isn't a great provider. My son is nearly 3 years old, and up until recently, he's paid all of the bills. The problem is that I have a huge fear of commitment. Yes, it's true.

It may surprise some to know that I've got a fear of relationships, but it's something I've dealt with for a long time now. Only recently have I truly internally dealt with this, although I've always known it lingered. As a matter of fact, I referred to it as my FOC in conversation with my homegirls back in the day.

I think it dates back to my relationship with my father (Freud would love that one). My father and I are really close and I can literally talk to him about anything. The thing is that for us to be close, my father is the most detached man I've ever known. We can be having a totally close moment on the phone and his phone will ring and he'll abruptly end our conversation as if I were a telemarketer. When we hug, he embraces me like I've got some kind of contagious disease. Yet he and I are so close that I've already told him that if he ever gets too old to take care of himself, I'd take him in instead of putting him in a home. Yet we barely hug. I can't remember the last time he told me he loves me, although I know that I'm the most important person in his life. And this detached creature is who I've come to seemingly model my relationships after.

I've recently come to see that my FOC is the reason that I've held my long term non-relationships is because it was actually what I'd wanted. I mean, one open relationship for 10 years and now another open one for 4 years. And I was glad to never be considered a g-word. I seriously get choked up when I think about being a... girlfriend. *shudders* So that is why my ex, David, worked so well with me for so long. If he pissed me off, I sent him home, if I pissed him off, he didn't call me. We didn't need a lot of long complicated talks, rules, and explanations. I had my freedom. Funny enough, one of his old coworkers asked if he and I were married because we seemed so familiar with one another. Yet he and I were only friends. And I loved it. If I wanted to fuck someone else, I did. There aren't any men out there that I'd wanted that I couldn't have because of another man.

Truth be told, I've started casually seeing another guy now. And I like it. I might break it off because I feel cheap sleeping with two guys, even though he's someone I dated back in the day and we've known one another for years. A part of me is feeling that things may end between me and the other guy soon, but I love having the option to do what I want.

The funny thing is that like I'd said before, I'm not much to be screwing around a lot. I simply want to reserve the right to do who and what I want, whenever I want. Is that too much to ask?

When Pookie mentioned marriage, I'd asked if he'd still screw around and if he'd expect me to do so as well. He actually said that no, if he got married it would be for real, no screwing around. You would think that I would be nervous about marrying him because I'd fear that he'd stray in a marriage again, but I was actually more worried about my own tendency to do what I want when I've reached my limit.

With my ex, it wasn't until we'd been together for nearly a decade did I say that he and I needed to look at making it official. And while I've had moments where I wanted Pookie to keep his ass (and other body parts) at home, overall, the notion of being tied to him and ONLY him chokes me up. I immediately told him that even if I got married, Blaire Underwood would still get it any day of the week.

What's crazy is that at times I can actually see myself getting married, just not to the men around me. Perhaps it's just that I've never seen myself wanting to be with any of the men I've dated for the long term. I've met some really nice guys that were marriage ready, even though I have a child with another man, and they pretty much told me that I could move in asap. Maybe that kind of stuff is what other women want to hear, but that kind of talk makes me run like hell in the other direction. It's bad enough for me to get into a long committed relationship, it's another thing to bring my son into some craziness also.

So here I am, technically uncommitted. And it works for me.

Friday NIghty MJQ Fuckery

God, I love MJQ Concourse in Atlanta, Georgia. I've been going there since before I was 20 when my former boss (who was a dj at the time) had to vouch for me to get in. Since then, I've had numerous awesome nights there. I wonder if they'd let my ashes be scattered there. Hmmm... I'll have to look into that. Anyway, I ended up there last night, and I was absolutely amazed at the amount of fuckery I was lucky enough to witness. Just to let you know, all of the pictures in this blog were taken last night, except for the one of me and Murph. I wish my phone battery had held up longer, because there was so much debauchery to photograph.

The day started out when Roderick (hi Rod!) told me that his girlfriend Bridget was coming to town and he wanted to take her out. He decided that MJQ would give her a good dose of the city. I called Solomon, Greg, and Daisy to see if they wanted to come out also. The guys didn't make it, but Daisy did.

I rolled my ass out of bed, and went down to meet them. I'm short on cash right now so I prayed that someone I knew would let me in for free. I went to the door and didn't see my homies, so I was prepared to give the bouncer a story when he looked at me and said "what's up?!" and hugged me and shooed me on inside for the freeski. God, membership has it's privileges. The funny thing is that while I was outside I saw a crowd of about 10 people trying to pool their money to buy everyone's way in. I chuckled at how pissed they must have been to see me walk up out of no where and be treated so nicely. In my defense though, I've been a regular for over 10 years and God knows, I've paid my dues for occasional free admittance. Not only that, when the more eccentric folks are given special privileges, it makes us want to go there more, which keeps the atmosphere dope. Honestly, the crowd last night wasn't as artsy as it normally is, so I hope and pray that MJQ keeps it diverse appeal.

Once I got in, I ran into Murph, one of the bouncers. Murph is one of the strangest and coolest men I've ever met. He actually came and spoke with my homie SkyHy to one of my communications classes while at Kennesaw. I walked in and flirted heavily with him as always before I departed to find my friends. I've flirted with Murph since we first met, and typically when we text one another, he'll ask for pictures of my tits. And I must ask, what is not to love about that man? I remember being outside of the club one night with Murph and Daisy. He held my hand as he complimented Daisy's ass. Only a true pimp could do it like that and no one get offended. Later on, Daisy suggested that the next time I saw him I should play with his nipples. As sweet as the offer was, I declined. She informed me that his nipples are pierced and that he'd enjoy it. Again, I passed.

Eventually I found Rod, Daisy, and Bridget. Daisy and I decided to go outside, which is where we ended up the whole night. I have to add that Bridget is absolutely adorable and I think that she and Rod are a great fit. She also promised to save me some of the banana pudding that she's going to make, which makes her my new best friend.

Outside of the club is actually normally where the magic happens at the club. Don't get me wrong, the music at the club is bananas and the vibe is the best, but unless it's really cold, I typically end up hanging outside when I go. As Daisy and I sat outside, we talked and caught up as always. I've known her for a few years now, but lately we've really gotten close, which I'm enjoying. Anyway, outside of the club is where the magic happened.

First, I ran into an old friend from childhood, Stacy. Some asshole I used to be cool with had the nerve to walk up to me and put his arms around me and tell me hello. I politely told him to burn in hell. That's when Stacy commented that she didn't know it was "Linen Night" at the club, commenting on his suit. I swear that girl needs help.

Next we saw Murph fling some drunk dude outside and tell him not to come back. The guy slunk away as we sat back and wondered what happened. The funny thing is that most bouncers are complete gentlemen to the ladies, but let some fool get out of pocket and they enjoy putting a foot in his ass. I guess that's why I've always gravitated to bouncers on a personal level, I always feel very respected and protected with them.

A while later, we saw a white cop car roll up. We commented on how beat up it looked and someone told us that they were the Task Force meaning that because they were the ass beaters of the APD and they're the ones that traditionally kick in doors. They rode around in a car that was beat up with a bad paint job because they could. The car stopped in the lot and the officer working outside of the club went to the side of the car and said hello to the cops inside the car. A few minutes later, a car pulled up behind the cop car. After waiting a few seconds, they decided to honk the horn to urge the car in front of them to go. I guess they didn't realized they were honking at 3 cops to hurry up so they could go around. That's when I saw the officer, who is a total cutie (damn him for being married!) get "that look." You know that look that says, "apparently, I'm gonna have to beat somebody's ass," right? Everyone outside laughed because it seems that the genius that was driving didn't seem to see that he was honking at a uniformed cop, who was leaning in and talking to fellow cops in a painted cop car. Officer Cutie was cool about it. I don't know what he said to them, but he quickly walked up to their car and they weren't seen for the rest of the night after they hauled ass. Needless to say, the original cop car stayed parked, firmly in place.

This was around the time that I start to proclaim "I'm totally gonna blog about tonight." A while later, I saw another bouncer carry another guy outside, drunk. This dude looked bad. Really bad. He layed on his back on the ground and rolled around. We all looked at him and shook our heads pathetically. Someone came and grabbed him later. He actually looked kind of sad and pitiful as he put on his really thick glasses and tailed behind his friend and they left.

Next up, we saw that Officer Cutie was having a hard time with someone. That was when I noticed that the officer was starting to handcuff the guy. Later, I saw him trying to subdue the guy. Despite me growing way tired, I decided that I wasn't going to leave until I saw him taken away. Yeah, it was growing into one of those nights. The crowd outside of the club started to grow at this time as more stragglers started to head out as the club was getting ready to close.

Around this time I met some guy that was clearly trying to flirt. He'd taken Daisy out before and she told me about how wack he was, and I got to see firsthand how right she was. I knew he was gonna be a loser when he looked at my locs and said "I want to grow my hair back out." Now I don't know if other women get this and if it bugs them as much as it bugs me, but I HATE it when a guy tries to relive the glory days of his hair while talking to me. I don't give a damn how long someone's hair used to be. I really don't. And then they try to hold long conversations about how they used to take care of it. UGH! Just LEAVE!!

Then we saw Murph bringing out a drunk woman. It was actually kind of sweet how nice he was to her, as he gently placed her on the sidewalk and then informed her that he was about to go into her purse and use her phone to call her daughter to come get her. Then he disappeared back inside. A part of me wanted to sit with her to make sure she'd be okay, but then another part of me just knew that I didn't want the responsibility of that, so I didn't. A few minutes later, Dres tha Beatnik rolled up. Dres is a well respected MC and host, and pretty much considered Atlanta royalty. He had been hosting that night in the club. We said our hellos and caught up. That's when the drunk chick started to hurl. I felt kind of bad for her but I still wasn't going there. Dres then said that watching her there was cool and that he never got to see drunk people throw up. I reminded him that he spends 4 nights a week in a club for a career. He responded that he gets to see the pretty side of club life, but rarely does he get to see the part where people get plastered and laid out. The pic below is of Dres and Daisy. A few minutes later I looked over at her and noticed that her vomit had spread and she was now sitting in it, in her white pants. Nice.

Around this time, the club had totally let out and a cop car rolled up to take away the guy that pissed off Officer Cutie. Rod and Bridget had left by then and a friend was about to walk Daisy to her car. I knew that the night was coming to an end so I bid adieu to everyone.

MJQ Concourse, I love you.