50 Shades of WTF?!?

So I've done the unthinkable. For a woman who prides herself on her literary acumen and writing prowess I have actually succumbed to the hype and decided to read what I can only describe as literary porn. I Avin have just finished Fifty shades of Gray.

So let me tell you why this is about as out of character for me as a fuzzy pink sweater. First, I'm not at all a romantic. I do not enjoy the occasional chick flick, love story or romance novel. I don't dig it. I don't like the idea if the helpless damsel in distress or the perils of Pauline where the woman is tied to the tracks waiting to be rescued. It goes against every survival instinct I have honed and every lesson I was taught by my super independent self sufficient momma. Seriously, we are talkin about a woman who wouldn't ever watch The Notebook, has never seen Love Jones and was forced to watch Love and Basketball. By the way I hated it. Not only did I find it implausible for the early 2000's but I thought it was archaic and I wanted to shake Sanaa Lathan for not having a spine and leaving that needy, pitiful Omar Epps when she had the opportunity. Seriously angry folks.

So, when I tell you that I've read 50 shades, it's beyond a stretch. Second, I typically enjoy a higher brow fare when it comes to my books. Favorite novels recently? The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls, the Dragon Tattoo series, Medium Raw, I know this much is true by Wally Lamb, Like water for Elephants and anything by Lee Child. I honestly don't like romantic fare or anything with a shirtless man on the cover. Don't even get me started on black romance novels. Can I even call them that? So hood and raunchy and downright unbelievable and foul I cant even believe they sell that crap. I was in Borders downtown a few years back looking for a respectable novel and what do I see in the African American fiction section? Thong on Fire. I shit you not. I was once roped into a Zane book by a coworker and I was so embarrassed halfway through that I wanted to put that book in a wood chipper.

So the idea that I would read what amounts to crap is baffling even to me. My roommate loves anything with Fabio or some other half naked man on the cover so this is totally up her alley, but I don't go for it. Cut to last week where for the umpteenth time I get to hear some woman gush over this book. Today it was on the radio. Up until that point I had only a vague knowledge of the subject matter. Some woman, some man, some S&M. Not interested. Don't get me wrong I am no ones prude at almost 40 years of age, but I damn sure haven't spent my days fantasizing about two white people in the throws of deviant sexual behavior. Okay let me rephrase that. After countless years of psychology classes in pursuit of a degree, I know more that I ever cared to about the psychology of human sexuality so a little description of whips and chains isn't really enough to run me off from a book. Trust me there are much scarier predilections to steer clear of.

What I had heard was super lightweight. Still if it's not in my purview the I am not interested, but people wouldn't shut up about it. Then I got an invite from FAC's ex girlfriend inviting me to a book club. I lept at the chance to go and discuss books with a bunch of women my own age until I heard the requirement. Read 50 shades before you come. Really people?

Fine, so I go and get the damn book on my Kindle Fire and start reading last week. I am surprised to say that while I don't think her writing sucks, she does spend a lot of time using the exact same adjectives "flush" for example is a worn out favorite of hers to describe blushing. I don't get the blushing thing but okay. Oh and "blaze" is another. She has got to go get a damn thesaurus. I have heard her describe different scenarios the same way about 30 times now. The plot seems fine, the characters are fully fleshed out, the settings are described well, and the pace seems on par...BUT lets not get twisted up in the game. This book, is about a Masochist with a heart of gold and I am really nervous for the glut of weak minded little suburban housewives who 1 thrive off of mock romance and 2 don't have two clues about the seedy ass nature of the paraphilla they are reading about. Homechick has made this some "hearts and flowers" (another over used description) jaunt through BDSM and they are not gonna like what this really is if they go looking for it.

I just get the feeling that somewhere between the feminists ranting about this book returning women to the dark ages and Dr. Oz spouting off about its amazing liberating qualities for women, there are gonna be a whole host of wide eyed, dumb ass women trolling the intrawebs for millionaire dominants with gray eyes and hearts of gold. I envision lawsuits....lots of them. Oh, and stories on the ID channel.

I wont pretend like they don't get into some of the dirtier bits, but talking about spanking and tying folks up gently with a silk necktie and actually being flogged, humiliated or engaging in sounding (please don't google that, you will not be happy) or suspension are two totally different things. I am kinda mad that I know all this stuff honestly. There are some seriously messed up people on this here earth, and they aren't all 26 and waiting to whisk you away for a night of light debauchery. The type of folks who engage in this stuff as a real hobby aren't fuckin around. They ain't gonna ask "Oh what am I going to do with you" (WAY overused) or offer you a soft blanket and a few Advil when they are done. They aim to kick your monkey ass.

Anywho, I read the book, and apparently there are more in the series. I am not necessarily looking forward to two more books of this fuckery but if the book is a requirement speed bump in order to get to the good shit then fine. I can manage. As books go its not terrible, but its no Memoirs of a Geisha.

Addicted

I’ve been keeping a secret. A huge secret that I hoped no one outside of a few close family members and friends would ever have to know. This secret has taken me three years to come to grips with, but sadly I fear that if I don’t unburden myself that the situation may never get better. The secret, as painful as it is to share could change the lives of so many people around me for the better, and I just refuse to sit in silence as everyone else around me suffers.

Three years ago, I was introduced by a friend (or who I thought was a friend) to a very hush-hush society of individuals. Without getting to far into it, I got hooked on something that I am not proud of. Something that haunts me every single day and makes me feel powerless to stop its hold on me. I know that by telling others I will have more and more trouble obtaining and hiding my addictions but I feel like nothing good can come of my current path. That is why I have taken it upon myself to change and bring this shameful secret out in the open.

I am addicted to Korean Fried Chicken and though you may have never heard of it, its powerful stuff. Korean Fried Chicken is difficult to obtain, and I have driven as far as New York in order to get it. I’ve never told certain people because I fear they will clog my beloved retailers and I will never have the opportunity to get it but now I see that by not speaking up, I could be hurting myself even worse.

As of November 2011 there are zero Korean Fried Chicken spots in the whole of Maryland. This is shameful and appalling, and frankly I am getting really tired of driving out to west hell or Virginia just to get it. It’s a tedious process and gas aint cheap. I was lucky enough to find one in Annendale but let me tell you, that’s a long ass ride and not at all fun. Then I found out they opened one in Fairfax and I vowed to spend my gas and time going there, but it struck me that there is not one single Korean Fried Chicken place in my home state, and while I don’t mind visiting NYC or VA its certainly not convenient. Probably better for my waistline but whatever! I need that Chicken!!!

There are at least 4 franchise options that could be staking their claim in MD but they aren’t. No Bon Chon, no Kyedong, no KyoChon and no UFC (unidentified flying chickens) in my state. Hell, only Bon Chon is outside of NYC and if you knew what I had been through to get that, you would lobby the first Korean you saw to open a stand in my state. Anyway, the reason I am even doing this is because possibly by drumming up enough interest someone will see what a great idea putting on in MD is and fulfill my dreams. I mean, I already know there is an untapped market. Most people love chicken, they love it more when its fried and well I don’t have to tell you how much black folks like chicken. We have dollars people, and frankly I am not giving them to the Colonial or Annie from Popeye’s. A Korean franchisee could be raking in the cash in a central spot like Largo or Greenbelt. Seriously, making a killing. And the thing about KFC is that if you build it they will come. They will believe I promise, because there is nothing else like it and we will keep you laced in the finest for the price of a few plates of chicken, pitchers of beer and cups of pickled dakon.

My issue is this, I would start one myself but (and not to sound racist) but do they even give those franchises to non Asians?? They are all based in South Korea, and I tell you right now I would be hella lost on that business deal. I just know that it would turn a massive profit.

So this is my plea. Please for the love of all that is good and holy someone place a Bon Chon or any of the others in my neck of the woods. I will patronize you like a damn zombie and never leave your side and I will bring all my family, friends and associates to worship at your temple of tasty chicken at the risk of not getting any for myself by flooding your store with believers. Please don’t make me keep driving away from my home I already gave up on Sonic, don’t let me lose faith in you! Sincerely, the KFC devoted from the state of Maryland.

Tears Dry on Their Own

Sad day in the life of Avin. The world lost a phenominal and troubled talent this weekend. I have been pretty quiet about my feelings on the subject (maybe because it still hasnt sunk in) but the passing of Amy Winehouse has hit me hard. I am trying desperately not to show it. I dont even know why honestly, I mean when did it become okay to hide emotion just because someone was rich and famous? Or worse because they lead a self distructive life? So maybe you arent riddled with addiction, but I bet there are some not so smart things youve engaged in that you are less than proud about and would hate to hear someone say "well, that's what happens when you xyz" about your untimely passing.

Sigh, in plain terms I was a fan. A real fan, who felt the notes she sang, and clung to Back to Black with the shattered pieces of my heart after the worst break up of my life. She got me through it and she built me back with Frank, and she made my heart soar with the B-sides when she filled my space with her rendition of Cupid. I still sing her Mark Ronson single Valerie as often as I can and the day I was blessed to go see her in concert in Philly at The Electric Factory, I new I was witnessing something special. So, yeah this hurts a little.

I wont even get into the path of ruin she was on. Everyone knew it and for months or years to come people will belabor and bludgeon her hard core drug use and alcoholisim. Unless youve ever loved someone struggling with additction then you probably will not understand. Frankly, I dont know what exactly was plagueing her but I hope that her soul is at rest.

Today is officially delcared Amy Winehouse day here and I will sit and mourn with my Amy station on Pandora and put Back to Black on repeat in the car on the way home tonight. How odd that I can listen to her music and when Teena Marie passed all I could think was "too soon, cant do it". I still dont think I have fully listened to a Teena song since that day.

Here is the piece that I wrote on her back in 2007.

"It’s the soundtrack of her life and its messy and complicated, but that’s
what makes it beautiful. Its layered, its heavy and its thought provoking
and downright as blunt as it gets. Its as smoky as any blues bar and so
personal it
reads like a diary. Its just Amy."

Rest in peace Amy, may your Grandma Ava be waiting there for you with free tickets to see Nas.

I'm On One...

One being a business trip of course. Every year about this time someone thinks its a grand idea to make me criss cross the damn country doing all sorts of work related nonsense. It is what it is people, so I can't fuss about it too much. I just remind myself that their is college to be paid for and overtime to be collected. Thing about the travel is the fact that you typically derail any weight loss plans or progress you've made prior to said trip.

This year was no exception and I found myself in the city of Chicago (Chi-town to some of y'all) and eating my way through a 10 day business trip. Basically, you work 13 hour days, don't get breakfast, barely score lunch and use your entire stipend to fill your belly with whatever is available to you at 8pm. The good news about this is that I had a bonafied Chicago restaurant foodie toting me around from place to place, so to say I ate well would be a huge understatement. This year's restaurant bucket list additions include The Girl and the Goat, where EVERY.DAMN.THING was good. From the home made bread and himachi appetizer to the dessert. Just fantastic. Another great addition was Blackbird and let me tell you I have probably never eaten that much in one sitting in my life. Everything was fantastic. Gruyere Ice cream? Banana Pan Pardue? Lamb bacon? Hawaiian black sea bass? Hell yes!

Okay enough about the food in Chicago. It was long and tiring and it put 5 of the 25 lbs I lost since March back on my behind. We will get to the weight loss thing in a second. So, then I came home and had a 5 day turn around before I flew off to Boston for another 6 days. To even insinuate that I was tired by then was a joke. My attitude started to suffer before I could clear security at O'Hare, so I was not looking forward to being cooped the fuck up with Drunky and a host of other needy folks. I spent most of my time waking up too early, moving tables for some crackhead facilitator, trying not to go to jail and eating. Eating being the most enjoyable. So by this time the size 10 pants I bought to go to Chicago are now extremely snug in Boston.

I am guessing I cleared another 4 to 5 lbs in Boston due to some seriously good eats. Most of which occurred in a little cafe/bar called Geoffrey's. Too much BLT, sweet potato fries, key lime pie, prosecco drinks and Disco Brunch. Oh and there was this thing called a donut muffin that probably caused some sort of irreparable damage to my system and very well could have shaved off years. It really was delicious though, just wrong but delicious. So I got home Tuesday, still in a pretty surly mood. Like seriously I don't really want to talk to anyone and I am not all that interested in being here. I was just nasty as fuck to a dude on the phone who probably didn't deserve it but had his facts mixed up. Don't assume dickhead and don't call here asking what my title is. Needless to say I just need to go the hell home and chill out. Its safer for everyone.

Oh and its 300 damn degrees today, so that isn't helping my disposition either. I am worried about the dogs being home in all this heat this weekend without Daddy and Bud and I am hungry again cause I had to basically start over again on my diet. Lets talk about the diet shall we?

So, I probably didn't mention it here but sometime in April I got the MF'ing flu. Full blown, terrible knock you out with fever and chills, sweating through clothes, barely coherent and miserable flu. Who the fuck gets the flu in April? I mean I had the exact same issue I had last time I got it which is I felt the signs, went to my doctor who told me it was fuckin acid reflux and then I spent the next week half dead with the flu. Seriously, can y'all get your symptoms straight? I know the difference between reflux and the GD flu!

So I spent my conscious hours watching daytime tv which included Dr. Oz and he was talking about the Dukan Diet. Low carb, low fat, high protein. I watched it for as long as I was awake, then I did a little more research once I got better and then I bought the book. Went on it in May in preparation for the graduation and immediately lost 5 lbs in the first 5 days. So it got better and easier as I went along and lost a solid 10lbs in less than a month. I started telling my mom about it and frankly anyone who would listen. This shit works people, no bullshit. So now mom is losing all kinds of weight and despite the heckling she is getting from her sister and friend she is looking real good. Really there is only one week of protein only and then you are on protein and veggies the rest of the time. I figure you can do almost anything for a week, especially if it works but hey y'all go on and keep laughing at my diet I will keep laughing at you trying to zip your pants.

On a whole other note, I have decided to hide my dumb ass ex husband's statuses on FB. The whole family is just crazy and stupid and they spend all their time telling FB about it. I cant have this kind of drama in my life and it reminds me that my son has been 100% better off for not having these loonies in his life for the last 18 years. Get thee some professional help and stay off my damn timeline.

Okay that's it, short and sweet.

Turning Tables

All kinds of crazy has been happening to my life since I left you and I guess I better catch up. Lets start with the good news, my wonderful son graduated from High School last Tuesday and I didn't cry my eyes out too much. I am proud and happy and just overjoyed for him. Now on to the crazy. You remember that open letter I wrote here for my ex husband? Well, there have been some developments. I think I best just take it back to the beginning and work my way down from there.

Sometime last month I was toiling in fields of this hellish plantation when my little "you've got a friend" request went off. I will cut right to the chase and tell you that it was none other than my ex husband asking to be my friend on FB. I figured that someone told him that I had just posted pictures of his son from the prom. Nosiness in my mind seemed to be the only thing that would warrant such blatant fuckery and line stepping on his part. So after I ranted, smoked half my pack, downed some anti-psychotics and basically melted down like a fuckin crazy person in this bitch, I proceeded to bury myself in work for the remainder of the day to remove myself from it. It was like having the devil look over your shoulder for 6 straight hours. Words cant even begin to describe the level of seething hot anger that was radiating from me. None the less I managed to make it through the day and not lose too much more of my cool, but it was close to being a real situation for me. I saw this as my opportunity to send that damn letter and be done with his absent ass once and for all. So, I sent him a FB message and asked him for his email address, which surprisingly he supplied. I was loaded for bear and ready to lower the boom with that incendiary device of a letter. Finally, I was gonna say my MFing piece about all the years of bullshit.

Now ask yourself if that's really how it went down....Yeah, didn't go that way at all. Somewhere between the plantation and the metro station I had a fit of conscience (which is unfamiliar territory for me considering my "act first think later" mentality) and started thinking about my amazing, wonderful (and completely dying on the inside because he cant reach his fuck of a father) son who wants nothing more than to have his dad see him cross that stage. At that moment I knew what I had to do. I had to put my letter on ice and give my son his father's email address. Damn it I hate when I make sense. So before I could start dreaming up more insidious and hateful shit to do, or worse before I could talk myself out of a smart decision I went home and gave him the email address. Then I told him hurry up and get in contact with his dad. I was unhappy but I knew it was right for my son.

So then I told my mother what I did and she told me I had done the right thing. Of course it didn't feel like it. I hate the high road because the path is full of rocks and thorns and the air is thin. That's when my son walked in and told me his father was very excited to come and wouldn't miss it for the world. Before that moment I just felt nauseous, after that moment I was hoping my suicide wouldn't be too much of a clean up. Seriously though, I was not looking forward to being in close quarters with this dude and my folks, and my poor boyfriend (who's 30th birthday was the same day btw) on my son's day of crowning achievement. Now I have to play nice, fan-fuckin-tastic.

Oh but hold on, it doesn't end there. Then, my cell phone buzzed and wouldn't ya know it, there is a text from none other than my fail ass ex husband. He wants to know why when he sends me a friend request I ask for his email. I didn't answer that honestly but I wanted to. I wanted to say that you came this close to getting a letter that would hand you your pathetic ass but nope, I just had a reasonable chat like an adult and that's when he went left and hit me with the apology.

That's right you read it right, this fool, Mr. missing in action sent me a damn apology and a thank you for raising my son. What does that even MEAN???? Seriously, what is that? I mean it was a general sweeping thank you and apology but still. I processed it as "You did an awesome job raising my kid while I was off playing daddy for some other folks, now that he is 18 I am sorry I wasn't there to help but now that there is no money involved I am back". Then, he says to thank my parents for all they did to get our son to this point. I am looking around like I am being punked. Seriously, where is the hidden camera? Just let me know now so I can get the shock over with.

He decides that he should share how he moved out of his marital home with that fat, non cooking sow he married and that he has changed, grown up...found god (stop me when you start to gag or your eyes refuse to roll back down out of your head) and wants to make amends with everyone he has hurt, especially me and his son. So I said, oh okay and then I stopped texting and went the hell home to drink a bottle of wine. I couldn't deal. Prom nearly took me out emotionally the Saturday prior and I had just spent the evening licking envelopes and mailing out graduation announcements all while having a text conversation with the person I possibly hate the most in the entire world while he tells me that he wants to make 13 years of emotional torture and mental pain right.

I came home and I couldn't even get the story out to Erica. I just cried through the whole thing. Blubbered like a damn fool cause I was even more angry than I had been prior to his contact. How dare you want to make it right now, after all the hard work is done. Between sobs and gnashed teeth I said "I could have lived the rest of my life without ever hearing this. I was fine hating him, and now if I don't let him make this right for Billy I am the asshole." So I slept on it. Fitfully mind you. Maybe it was the half gallon of wine I drank to drown out the emotion of the day. Needless to say after that chat I was not looking forward to graduation day. I decided that the text chat (and the friend request) warranted some sort of response. So the next day I wrote him this.

Hall,

Listen I really appreciate the conversation we had last night. Billy
is really excited that you are going to be able to come to his
graduation. He has worked much harder than you know for this moment
and it meant a lot to him to have you there watching him on the
biggest day of his young life. He is super proud of himself and he
should be.

As for the Facebook friendship thing...I don't want you to take this
the wrong way but I don't know if I am really ready for that. I have
spent a whole lot of years being very disappointed in your involvement
in Bill's life, and while I honestly believe that you mean me and him
no harm its tough for me not to still have some anger where you are
concerned. I forgave you a long time ago, but its been hard to forget
so give me some time. I don't hate you, but there is still pain.

What I really want is for you to get to know your son. Really know
him. He is about as cool a person as you could ever know. Smart and
funny and really genuine of heart. Doesn't care about money or titles
or where he falls on the popularity scale and he already has his
career picked out, which btw he is really good at.

You and I can work on this friendship thing. I am not against it.

I will let you know what the deal is with the bus
situation. We will get it worked out.
Tiff

See that? That's me again, on the GD high road. Why in the world would I feel it necessary to respond? My son, that's why, and anything that makes him happy is gonna be what I do. The letter isn't quite as sincere as it looks. I mean, come on who really forgives and forgets? Not me pal, I just threw that last bit in for gramatical color. There were a few more emails. Him explaining, me explaining. You know....hell you don't know cause I don't know. It was just weird.

I figured that the weeks between Prom and that day would be filled with angry tears and enough red wine to float a ship but things were so crazy busy that I just simply didn't have time to commit to any of it emotionally. Sometimes the lord knows what he is doing when he makes you so damn busy you cant see straight. Graduation straight snuck up on me and with it so did that fail ass bus lady's email at 4pm on the Saturday before. Telling me "sorry, I didn't get your seats" which sent me into another emotional fit thinking about what was gonna happen when we had to drive down there. Would I be stuck in a seat between him and my boyfriend? What the hell was going to happen to me on Graduation day? That's when I remembered that I wrangled 4 extra tickets from that fool at the school and because of the bus problem I wasn't able to use one. I managed to get my son's favorite cousin invited and that broke up the seating enough to make us take three cars. Its a damn good thing I am smart.

So the day arrived and I was running around like a damn basket case. I am pretty hard to unspazz once I start, and this day was no exception. I got my son out of the house early and I came back and got dressed and tried not to be unreasonably ill. At this point I am gonna fast forward cause the graduation was a blur. He was very cordial, and really not at all what I expected. The day just flew by. Introductions, driving, parking, running, sitting, snapping photos, leaving the venue, more photos, walking, more driving, more photos, lunch and that was that. He was gone by 3:30 and I dropped the kid at a graduation party. The boyfriend and I went to his dads to finish out his birthday and the evening ended.

I feel like I left something out.....Oh wait yeah the part where we had Bills party Saturday and a check came from the child support office for $600. Could have knocked me the MF over with a feather. I was shocked and I damn near passed out but once I got over the shock I hurried up and put it in the bank. That was Sunday, father's day...and well...I friended him on Facebook and my first official olive branch was a happy father's day post on his wall. Did I say I hate the high road??? I just don't understand myself sometimes. I guess its cause I want all this so badly for my kid. Cause if being understanding and letting this dude make amends will give him even an ounce more happiness then I will do it.

How do I feel about all this honestly? I really don't know. I mean some of those emails we exchanged got weird. Like, there is a real foggy retelling of the past on his part that almost made me flare up but hell just cause I remember 13 years ago like it was yesterday doesn't mean that he does. That and his new found comfort with expressing his feelings sort of vexes me too. At a point I thought he was hitting on me (which I highly doubt now looking at his new GF) no seriously, he said something about touching my hand during the MANDATORY prayer at Kevin's memorial service (yall remember, where I had to babysit his monkey ass) and he said he "felt" something (pause, blink blink). I stopped short of telling him that what he felt was the searing anger lapping at the surface of my composure. That was upsetting for sure, that and he uses the word love very liberally, like shaking on salt, which I find confusing and well...bitch made for a man. Not only that but he is way too chummy with me like the 10 years prior to the split were fodder for good times, jokes and drinks. Um no, you put me through hell homie I haven't forgotten. Last but definitely not least is my utter distaste for his professing to make it up to ME personally. You can go head with that man, I'm good. I don't need to be made up to, I need you to do that with the boy. Do I still hate him? Ehhh fuck me I don't know, but do I think he is the braying ass I pegged him for 3 months ago? Time will reveal. I am willing to see how this goes.

In the end I did send that letter and to his credit he took it for what it was and again apologized and admitted that there was nothing untrue in it. I give him a little credit there. That letter was a motherfucker. Granted, I am not liking having him in my daily consciousness. Its tough watching his every damn move on FB and trust me he posts a whole bloodclot lot. Photos and shit, its ridiculous. Hall checked in here, Hall likes this restaurant, Hall likes this bar, Hall got new tires here, Hall quotes this bible passage (no seriously wtf) Hall is in a relationship with Tina. BTW that makes three T's as relationships. Me, the new exwife and the new girlfriend. Its getting out of hand. I am not gonna tell you how to live your life man but you probably shouldn't get another chick's name tattooed on you. Let me not even go there about the leaving your marital home in February and being in a committed relationship (sans separation agreement and divorce decree) by June. I think this is how some other stuff popped off in June of 98. Let the dust settle, damn.

I would like to add one spiteful note to this post because I dont spout off about the bible in all my emails and FB posts, and I still cuss like a sailor and occasionally drop it low. I think that karma is amazing. This week thanks to FB I had the pleasure of seeing my exhusband post photos of himself and the new girlfriend with his two children by the new exwife. I immediately flashed to that time that my son came home from a week long trip with his daddy and new girlfriend (that's new exwife to you) and announced that he was made to sleep in the bed with them the whole trip. He didn't even know we were splitting up. That crow must be cold and greasy new exwife, and that karma must be hot like fire. You reap what you sew bitch. Good luck covering up that heinous wolf tattoo with Hall's name. Okay now I am done :)

WINNING?

I wonder if everyone would think the Charlie Sheen thing was so hysterical and full of quotables if he were a black man. I mean mental illness isnt funny to start but what kind of reaction do you think the public would have if this were Denzel? Or Tracy Morgan? Remember when Martin was waving that pistol in traffic a few years ago after smoking some boat? Yeah...exactly.

Would it be funny then, or would he need to be locked up for the safety of society?

Look At Me Now

Couple of things to report. First, I am tired of traveling all over this TSA laden land of ours. Enough already! I perm, I fly, I perm, I fly. That’s the only reason I know it’s time for my relaxer, cause I have some plane to get on. I know I just said that all this travel afforded me the opportunity to eat like a pig all the damn time but really I am over it.

Next, I got the opportunity to meet my soon to be brother in law’s new girlfriend. Never mind that he is still married to the soon to be ex sister in law that I only formally met once. She seems really nice. Quiet though, which could be an issue in a house full of drinkers and cussers. We will see how that turns out. Oh and while I am at it this meeting reminded me of something. I boost no one’s stock in the “I go hard” department. If you want a hood chick then don’t look this direction. I will do nothing for your street cred or your “keepin it real” points. I am a light skinned, 35 year old woman from the Montgomery County suburbs. It’s clear that is where I am from and I don’t intend at this age to try and toughen my image.

Sure, I am crazy as an escaped mental patient and handy as fuck with a blade. I am coated in tattoos and have very little if any qualms about cussing someone lower than a dog. I drink like a fish and smoke like a chimney but do not get it twisted. Hood, I am not. Go score your Jackie O/Trina/Khia points somewhere else. If you aren’t okay with me looking like that keep on moving down the lane. Good thing my man is not at all troubled by my suburban look. He is aware that under my New York and Company façade I am unstable. It’s a part of my charm.

Next up, I would like to address with growing concern this idiotic sentiment that when something goes wrong in a relationship every woman is either bitter or crazy. I might have always been crazy, but bitter I am not. I think that’s an excuse that soft ass people love to use when they don’t know what else to say. I said what you wanted to, or I called the bullshit I saw. Don’t be upset because I hurt his wittle feelings. Grown men who curl into the fetal position when names hurt them should just go get their nuts removed and women who defend that gump ass behavior should donate their ovaries to them. Stop being scared all your life. Oh and for those of you who thought it was awful that I wrote that letter to that fail ass ex-husband of mine and that somehow I am showing how “bitter” I am. You can eat a dick while you continue let your baby daddies’ walk all over your soft asses. Not me, but thanks for thinking you know my life.

In other news, I have 3 months to buckle down and get this damn weight off me before everyone and their momma wants to take a pic of me and the newly graduated son. I don’t feel like hiding behind him in every photo (which I could do if I really wanted) so I will just slim down. I am certain that the boyfriend will not be excited about his participation in this weight loss journey, but we both pledged to be healthier this year and take off a few of those liquor induced pounds.

Speaking of liquor….You know, when you call me and tell me with a heavy heart that your pancreas up and quit on you after years of abuse please don’t expect sympathy when you call again to tell me that you through a damn fit like a 5 year old and went drinking. Especially after someone told you something you didn’t like. This only serves to remind me that my father is not hardly thinking about growing up and will continue to repeat the same damn behavior time and time again. I called to check on him cause I felt bad for not feeling worse about his predicament. Of course I can never call without hearing a tale of woe. I mean, you did something fucked up and now you are sorry and I am supposed to be shocked? In other news, water is wet. I can’t.

Oh back to the boy. His 18th birthday is Monday and I am very excited for him. Welp that’s it. I don’t really do birthday excitement so “Yay Bill!” I hope you enjoy Maggianos and the movies with your friends. He doesn’t seem all that big on birthday’s either if you ask me. That’s a damn small request for turning 18 LOL. Wait till he sees what you get at 35!
In closing, I hate my fucking job. Goodnight and god bless.