No, not my ex-husband--don't nobody give a rat's ass about that marriage (which, by the way, is already over!). But rather the ex that launched me into the blogosphere in the first place. The one I dated the minute after I ended my marriage. The one responsible for The Breakup Heard Around the World.
I won't sit here and lie and say I was devastated or anything, but there was a sense of melancholy. I wasn't sure why at first. As I watched it I smiled and laughed and was genuinely moved by the video, but then I got in my feelings.
I don't miss him. I don't want him. And when he contacted me a couple of years ago to "get coffee" I gave my phone a side-eye and brushed him off. I made a conscious choice not to engage in whatever that cup of coffee was going to entail. Not because I was still mad or bitter but because what would have been the point? We weren't great friends or anything. Nothing was lost after we split.
Now, I will always remember that he was the best lay EVER. As in EVER. As in NO ONE I've slept with before or since him has measured up. He has the game on lock. The rest of y'all should take lessons from him. Seriously. But that wasn't enough then and now, when I really couldn't care less about carnal activities, it's definitely not enough. So it's not about him. I wish him well and hope he'll be happy with his wife (and new baby boy...yes, my stalker skills are top level).
It's more about me being in the same place where he left me--literally. Same apartment. Same financial status. Same health issues and fatness. Same attitude problems and same issues with men and sex. Watching his wedding video and knowing who he was and how much he's (seemingly) grown makes me feel stunted and unaccomplished. Like I didn't deserve the pedestal he had initially put me on. Like I don't deserve the praise and accolades a lot of you bestow upon me today. I HAVEN'T REALLY DONE ANYTHING BUT SURVIVED. And maybe that's enough for some, but it makes me feel like a failure at life.
Everything around me changes and me? I'm still here, googling shit I know I shouldn't be googling, and then getting in my feelings when I find it.
*smooches...deciding not to look up any more exes*
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child if I find out that Mr. Baseball has a wife and baby you may have to come over and sedate me...
Showing posts with label Bitchy Karma. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bitchy Karma. Show all posts
Thursday, April 03, 2014
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
I'm Just Going To Stop Wishing
"...the devil doesn’t come dressed in a red cape and pointy horns. He comes as everything you’ve ever wished for..." -Tucker Max, Assholes Finish First
*smooches...still wishing a motherfucker WOULD, though*
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I could never give that up
*smooches...still wishing a motherfucker WOULD, though*
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I could never give that up
Sunday, December 02, 2012
Jaded Photographs: December 2012 Edition
"Why Kids Get Beat"
 |
| Can I nap in PEACE? |
After I spent my money and my time to take this ungrateful heffa all the way up to Boston to visit colleges she had THE NERVE to disturb my most sacred of rituals: daytime bus sleeping.
And I'm sure her sister giggled her bony ass off as the picture was being taken. Rude ass kids... I mean, she's lucky to still be alive after pulling this stunt!
*smooches...unafraid to show my ugly sleeping face*
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it's not like y'all have to wake up next to me or anything
Thursday, March 08, 2012
The Spiral.
I've been meaning to write this post since 2006. However, every time I sat down to write it I told myself it was too much.
But, this is the year I've chosen to be fearless, so here goes.
It usually starts immediately after a string of really great days: my hair is behaving, my belly isn't protruding and the plumbing in my bathroom is running smoothly (no, seriously, this house has the worst pipes ever. It must be a gazillion years old. And that's not a metaphor; I literally have to call my landlord every three months because a shower turns into a flood in 2.7 seconds. But anyway...). I'll have a seat and think, Life is great!
Then it gets out of control:
And then I get online, not to take care of business but rather to distract myself from all the thoughts that won't shut up. But what the internet does is accentuate all the people who have seemingly better lives than I do and that makes it worse.
That leads to my old friend Binging. And Sloth. And I sink into a hole so deep but it's comfortable there. I know this place well. My ass groove is still cemented in the couch down there. It's hard to breathe and it's foggy and I can't really see the doorway that leads out, and that part is a little scary, but it's comfortable. It's cold and it makes me feel numb and apathetic and I find it hard to care about anything, even my own children, but it's comfortable.
Sometimes the only way out is to be forced out by an outside force: a threat from Cablevision that my service will be shut if I don't pay this bill or a note home that N missed an assignment- surely a sign that I'm a bad homemaker and mother, respectively. But sometimes something inside makes me snap out of it. It's like only one of The Voices wants me to be happy but she's been kidnapped by the others and every time this happens it takes her longer and longer to escape. She breaks through somehow and gets me to feel something, anything, and she's so loud and powerful that I cannot ignore her.
So then I come out of it and begin the task of assessing the Katrina-like damage left in the wake of my Spiral. I put together a plan for how to fix it all and become overwhelmed because there's so much to repair.
How can I do this all? I'm only one person. Why can't I do this? I need so much help!
That Voice is particularly hard to argue with because she's right. I'm almost 37, still looking for someone else to fix me. And that's when I realize my "strong Voice" has been abducted, again, so soon, and now even she can't help me. So I'm half in and half out of the hole, knowing that I have this list of things that must be done but lacking the courage and strength to put on my big girl drawlz. Eventually, she'll escape again, and in that window of freedom I'll make more lists and maybe even get a few things done, but how long until then?
I don't know what I'll do if she never makes it back.
*smooches...hoping I didn't scare you off*
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listen, this is just my reality. that's what you come here for, right? Also, Bellevue is spelled incorrectly in my tags and it's driving me even crazier that there isn't an easy solution to fix it. It's all I can think about and it's keeping me up at night. Welcome to my brain.
Your readers don't need to know ever single detail about every single misfiring of every single neuron in your brain, Raquel.
This is going to garner a lot of unsolicited advice.
They're going to send Bellevue right to your door, stop playing!
But, this is the year I've chosen to be fearless, so here goes.
It usually starts immediately after a string of really great days: my hair is behaving, my belly isn't protruding and the plumbing in my bathroom is running smoothly (no, seriously, this house has the worst pipes ever. It must be a gazillion years old. And that's not a metaphor; I literally have to call my landlord every three months because a shower turns into a flood in 2.7 seconds. But anyway...). I'll have a seat and think, Life is great!
Then it gets out of control:
Well it's great except for A. Yeah, if A were all straightened out, life would be great. Oh and B, too. That is something I've been meaning to take care of for years. What's taking me so long? UGH and I forgot to take care of C like I said I would this week. Dammit, my entire TO DO list went to hell and it's already Thursday so there's no time to catch up. And I need to handle D right away. I'm running out of time on that and if I don't fix it the repercussions will ruin everything. Whatever, everything is ruined anyway. I'm so fucking lazy and stupid! Why didn't I just take care of this shit earlier?
And then I get online, not to take care of business but rather to distract myself from all the thoughts that won't shut up. But what the internet does is accentuate all the people who have seemingly better lives than I do and that makes it worse.
They have their shit together, why don't you? Y'all are the same age and that person over there is way younger than you and they have it together. What the fuck is wrong with you? I swear you're a waste of skin sometimes. I'm so over you!
That leads to my old friend Binging. And Sloth. And I sink into a hole so deep but it's comfortable there. I know this place well. My ass groove is still cemented in the couch down there. It's hard to breathe and it's foggy and I can't really see the doorway that leads out, and that part is a little scary, but it's comfortable. It's cold and it makes me feel numb and apathetic and I find it hard to care about anything, even my own children, but it's comfortable.
Sometimes the only way out is to be forced out by an outside force: a threat from Cablevision that my service will be shut if I don't pay this bill or a note home that N missed an assignment- surely a sign that I'm a bad homemaker and mother, respectively. But sometimes something inside makes me snap out of it. It's like only one of The Voices wants me to be happy but she's been kidnapped by the others and every time this happens it takes her longer and longer to escape. She breaks through somehow and gets me to feel something, anything, and she's so loud and powerful that I cannot ignore her.
You have to do something or you're going to die here. And it's just not our time.
So then I come out of it and begin the task of assessing the Katrina-like damage left in the wake of my Spiral. I put together a plan for how to fix it all and become overwhelmed because there's so much to repair.
How can I do this all? I'm only one person. Why can't I do this? I need so much help!
Who's going to help you? There is no one. You made this mess. You have to fix it. Stop burdening people with your shit. How old are you, still looking for bailouts?
That Voice is particularly hard to argue with because she's right. I'm almost 37, still looking for someone else to fix me. And that's when I realize my "strong Voice" has been abducted, again, so soon, and now even she can't help me. So I'm half in and half out of the hole, knowing that I have this list of things that must be done but lacking the courage and strength to put on my big girl drawlz. Eventually, she'll escape again, and in that window of freedom I'll make more lists and maybe even get a few things done, but how long until then?
I don't know what I'll do if she never makes it back.
*smooches...hoping I didn't scare you off*
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listen, this is just my reality. that's what you come here for, right? Also, Bellevue is spelled incorrectly in my tags and it's driving me even crazier that there isn't an easy solution to fix it. It's all I can think about and it's keeping me up at night. Welcome to my brain.
Monday, March 05, 2012
"...El Agua No Esta Cerca..."
Forever unrequited. That's what it will say on my tombstone.
*smooches...for this knack of wanting the unattainable*
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...and discarding what's readily available
*smooches...for this knack of wanting the unattainable*
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...and discarding what's readily available
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Meet Me Halfway
Whenever I get one of those creepy old lady thoughts, the ones where The Voices are all, "Girl you ain't no spring chicken. You might want to think of just settling for the next loser that says hi" I seriously have to fight them in their face.
I won't settle. Even if it means I'm alone in my 50s. I had my fun after my divorce but now I must enforce some standards. I can't be bettering myself and then end up with garbage for a life partner. And I don't need perfection, but damn, dawg, show me that you're trying to make progress. All I see around me is NO.
I'm just saying.
*smooches...a little tired of NY men*
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at this stage in the game, all the good ones are taken. they were snatched up while I wasted my time being married to you-know-who.
I won't settle. Even if it means I'm alone in my 50s. I had my fun after my divorce but now I must enforce some standards. I can't be bettering myself and then end up with garbage for a life partner. And I don't need perfection, but damn, dawg, show me that you're trying to make progress. All I see around me is NO.
I'm just saying.
*smooches...a little tired of NY men*
------------
at this stage in the game, all the good ones are taken. they were snatched up while I wasted my time being married to you-know-who.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
A Cautionary Tale About Gossip
"Don't over-feed the monster and then be mad that it got fat."
A few years ago, I became friends with someone that, upon first meeting seemed super cool. We hung out a lot! It was so nice to have someone in the area with similar ideas of what was fun, and we were out and about almost every weekend I was free.
This person also had a tendency to give lots of back story on the people in their life. I mean intimate, private details that were probably told to them in confidence; they told these stories with no disclaimers or trepidations. Just, "Oh, so-and-so? Yeah she went to jail for shoplifting and declared bankruptcy last year and her man beats her." This isn't an actual story, but just an example of the type of personal information they eagerly shared with me and anyone else who would listen.
Reprehensible, right? Well let me tell you what was worse: I sat there and devoured every morsel of gossip this person handed me. I'm nosy by nature so it was like Christmas every time my friend divulged another tasty bit of information on the new people that were crossing my path. We continued on like that for a solid six months until the inevitable happened.
The gossip turned on me.
I suspected that this friend was spilling MY business in the streets, and then had my suspicions confirmed a few months after I had already distanced myself from them. And you'd think I would have been cautious with the information I allowed this person to know, seeing as they had loose lips, but no. I seemed to have diarrhea of the mouth. So I can only imagine and assume that everything I ever shared with them was repeated many times to many people. This level of betrayal was devastating to me and led me down a path of self-doubt, hurt and all manner of bad feelings (this happened during a particularly bad storm in my life).
But looking back on it, I got exactly what I deserved. I sat there and feasted on gossip about other poor souls who thought this person was a true confidant, without a care in the world for how they would feel. I never said, "Hey, maybe you shouldn't be telling me this." Or "I don't want to know all this about XYZ" or redirected the conversation.
It was a very hard lesson to learn but I'm glad I learned it. I hope you all never have to feel what I felt, but also take a minute to see if maybe you're creating the kind of environment in your relationships that co-signs this type of shadiness. And then make every effort to change before you get burned, too.
*smooches...passing on crucial info to help you do better*
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before you decide to gossip, stop and think "would I want someone talking about me this way?" it always helps me make better decisions!
Wednesday, January 05, 2011
The Power Of Words
More than anything else I've learned in all my days on this earth, I've learned the power behind the words we say. Like calling a kid stupid or lazy; that shit stays with them for life. Or how saying things like, "I'm fat and lazy" stays in your psyche and keeps you from doing better. I know because I live this everyday.
For a very long time (as in all my life) I was known for being to late to things- work, parties, dates, etc. Was I late because people expected it of me therefore it felt like a free pass to take my time? Or was I late because I was always unprepared, etc? It doesn't matter because I made a conscious effort last year to end all of that lateness BS and be on time to things. If promptness wasn't possible I made sure to alert whomever I was meeting. Courteous shit like that. It was just a matter of saying to myself, "Don't be late. You will not be late. Lateness is not cute. Get moving NOW or you'll be late." I've since improved so much with that mantra. Not 100% but damn near 93% for sure.
I want us all to take this example and roll with it. We're not fat, lazy, broke, incapable, bad people. Well, some of us ARE all these things but there's still time to change it around. We can get active, save our money and do good deeds. It all starts with what you say to yourself and what you allow others to say to or about you.
Words are so powerful, mightier than the sword in fact. What you say matters so much, whether it's to yourself or to someone else. It would be nice if we all took a moment to choose our words wisely.
YOU ARE SOMEBODY. I AM SOMEBODY. And we can all be the greatest WHATEVER we set our minds to be.
Look in the mirror and tell yourself so.
*smooches...sharing some of positive words*
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I figured I'd do something like this whenever I'm feeling shitty, to counteract the bluesy blues. but please, someone stop me if I ever add in cutesy videos of kittens frolicking or pandas sneezing!
For a very long time (as in all my life) I was known for being to late to things- work, parties, dates, etc. Was I late because people expected it of me therefore it felt like a free pass to take my time? Or was I late because I was always unprepared, etc? It doesn't matter because I made a conscious effort last year to end all of that lateness BS and be on time to things. If promptness wasn't possible I made sure to alert whomever I was meeting. Courteous shit like that. It was just a matter of saying to myself, "Don't be late. You will not be late. Lateness is not cute. Get moving NOW or you'll be late." I've since improved so much with that mantra. Not 100% but damn near 93% for sure.
I want us all to take this example and roll with it. We're not fat, lazy, broke, incapable, bad people. Well, some of us ARE all these things but there's still time to change it around. We can get active, save our money and do good deeds. It all starts with what you say to yourself and what you allow others to say to or about you.
Words are so powerful, mightier than the sword in fact. What you say matters so much, whether it's to yourself or to someone else. It would be nice if we all took a moment to choose our words wisely.
YOU ARE SOMEBODY. I AM SOMEBODY. And we can all be the greatest WHATEVER we set our minds to be.
Look in the mirror and tell yourself so.
*smooches...sharing some of positive words*
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I figured I'd do something like this whenever I'm feeling shitty, to counteract the bluesy blues. but please, someone stop me if I ever add in cutesy videos of kittens frolicking or pandas sneezing!
Thursday, November 04, 2010
Sisters Before Misters
Once, in junior high school, I embarked on a budding romance with a classmate. He liked me and I liked him and it was all very exciting and hush-hush. It hadn't gone beyond flirting when out of the blue, one of my good friends told me she liked him. I immediately ended all potential happenings with this dude.
It happened again in college, before I met K&N's dad. There was a guy I was kinda sweet on and we were in the flirty stages when a friend confessed her feelings for him. Seeing as I was already juggling two suitors I let that one go, too, and moved on. This has basically been my m.o. my entire dating life- I cannot, in good conscious, be with a guy my good friend has feelings for, used to date or expressed interest in (sorry for the preposition there...feeling lazy today).
Most times it's because of the universal law of DIBS- if I didn't open my mouth and say, "I like this guy and am actively pursuing a lil something with him" then I must cease all crush-like thoughts of said dude as soon as someone else claims him. It's just how my brain works. Other times I know that my ADHD-having ass isn't really, truly interested in something real so I just step aside and let someone else try for real love.
Now, please don't mistake this as some backdoor compliment where I think I'm the shit and can take your man in one fell swoop. I mean, I probably could take MOST of y'all's mens, but that's not what I'm saying.
Too many times women are so bitchy, catty and back-stabby to one another. I hate that shit. If you're a female and you're among my close friends, please know that your happiness and well-being and friendship means the world to me, and I will always put that BEFORE some random dude with whom I have no real ties. Whether or not you skanky heffas are doing the same for me is besides the point- that's just how I roll.
Of course you know I'm writing this because I had this situation happen again, right? I had to pass on a dude because there was some grey DIBS situations happening, and in the end, I want the friend more than I want the guy. There are a million guys out there I can holla at. Hell- there are three security guards here at work I'd make out with instead of eating lunch if given the chance, but there's only ONE friend like her.
That decision is always a pretty easy one for me, especially since my feelings for dudes are always so fleeting. It would be such a wonderful world if females just took a moment to consider other females more in these types of situations. Seriously, it would solve so much! We'd be ruling the world n shit!
Think about it- half of the mean-girl, low self-esteem situations we deal with would cease to exist. Besides, who wants bitter bitches over for dinner eye-balling your man whenever you leave to use the bathroom? Nah, I can't handle the stress.
*smooches...steering clear of bad karma*
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I almost called this post: Chicks Before Dicks, but then I felt like it made me sound like a lesbian. And it's okay if YOU'RE a lesbian; me and The Gays get along quite fine. Just, not in THAT way. In the boudoir, I prefer penis over vagina *side eye*
It happened again in college, before I met K&N's dad. There was a guy I was kinda sweet on and we were in the flirty stages when a friend confessed her feelings for him. Seeing as I was already juggling two suitors I let that one go, too, and moved on. This has basically been my m.o. my entire dating life- I cannot, in good conscious, be with a guy my good friend has feelings for, used to date or expressed interest in (sorry for the preposition there...feeling lazy today).
Most times it's because of the universal law of DIBS- if I didn't open my mouth and say, "I like this guy and am actively pursuing a lil something with him" then I must cease all crush-like thoughts of said dude as soon as someone else claims him. It's just how my brain works. Other times I know that my ADHD-having ass isn't really, truly interested in something real so I just step aside and let someone else try for real love.
Now, please don't mistake this as some backdoor compliment where I think I'm the shit and can take your man in one fell swoop. I mean, I probably could take MOST of y'all's mens, but that's not what I'm saying.
Too many times women are so bitchy, catty and back-stabby to one another. I hate that shit. If you're a female and you're among my close friends, please know that your happiness and well-being and friendship means the world to me, and I will always put that BEFORE some random dude with whom I have no real ties. Whether or not you skanky heffas are doing the same for me is besides the point- that's just how I roll.
Of course you know I'm writing this because I had this situation happen again, right? I had to pass on a dude because there was some grey DIBS situations happening, and in the end, I want the friend more than I want the guy. There are a million guys out there I can holla at. Hell- there are three security guards here at work I'd make out with instead of eating lunch if given the chance, but there's only ONE friend like her.
That decision is always a pretty easy one for me, especially since my feelings for dudes are always so fleeting. It would be such a wonderful world if females just took a moment to consider other females more in these types of situations. Seriously, it would solve so much! We'd be ruling the world n shit!
Think about it- half of the mean-girl, low self-esteem situations we deal with would cease to exist. Besides, who wants bitter bitches over for dinner eye-balling your man whenever you leave to use the bathroom? Nah, I can't handle the stress.
*smooches...steering clear of bad karma*
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I almost called this post: Chicks Before Dicks, but then I felt like it made me sound like a lesbian. And it's okay if YOU'RE a lesbian; me and The Gays get along quite fine. Just, not in THAT way. In the boudoir, I prefer penis over vagina *side eye*
Tuesday, November 02, 2010
I’m What’s Known As A Halloween Grinch.
I don’t like dressing up, I don’t like trick-or-treaters and I hate going out when the entire City is also out and about. Basically, I hate doing what everyone else is doing. You say white I’m going to say orange, just to be difficult.
But this year I relented because it was my cousin’s birthday and he was DJ-ing at a spot on E. Houston. It took me forever to actually get motivated to leave Brooklyn because I was nursing my ego after being rejected by yet ANOTHER literary magazine, but I grabbed a partner in crime and got there at about 1AM. My costume? I dressed as a 35-year-old mother of two who was ripped from her comfy couch and Law & Order: SVU marathon to deal with drunken fools in the street *side eye*
At first I was annoyed because the trains were acting up and then THIS:
But once I got to the bar I met up with a cute, flirty bouncer, another cousin was there, too, and then THIS:
And this:
Aaaaannnnnnnnd THIS:
It was allllll downhill from there.
This dude in the glasses kept staring at me all night!
My cousin Will and his crazy wig n disco shirt!
Will's YUMMY friend. The things I woulda done to that boy...
um, I mean, he was a nice guy O_o
NO MAS!
OKAY, UNO MAS!
The white DJ who actually played some good stuff.
The world's oldest condom...
What was left of my buffalo wings at the end of the night.
I got home at 7AM. Need I say more?
*smooches...still tired from Saturday night*
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I think my body was so tired that it summoned my period a whole week early to punish me!
But this year I relented because it was my cousin’s birthday and he was DJ-ing at a spot on E. Houston. It took me forever to actually get motivated to leave Brooklyn because I was nursing my ego after being rejected by yet ANOTHER literary magazine, but I grabbed a partner in crime and got there at about 1AM. My costume? I dressed as a 35-year-old mother of two who was ripped from her comfy couch and Law & Order: SVU marathon to deal with drunken fools in the street *side eye*
At first I was annoyed because the trains were acting up and then THIS:
But once I got to the bar I met up with a cute, flirty bouncer, another cousin was there, too, and then THIS:
And this:
Aaaaannnnnnnnd THIS:
It was allllll downhill from there.
This dude in the glasses kept staring at me all night!
My cousin Will and his crazy wig n disco shirt!
Will's YUMMY friend. The things I woulda done to that boy...um, I mean, he was a nice guy O_o
NO MAS!
OKAY, UNO MAS!
The white DJ who actually played some good stuff.
The world's oldest condom...
What was left of my buffalo wings at the end of the night.I got home at 7AM. Need I say more?
*smooches...still tired from Saturday night*
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I think my body was so tired that it summoned my period a whole week early to punish me!
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Smart Ass Mouth...
K was explaining one of her crazy OCD tendencies one day. I can't remember what it was but it was seriously NUTS. So then...
ME: I guess that makes sense in Crazy Town.
K: You should know; you live there!
*smooches...so done with this parenting thing*
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why did I teach her to speak again? *sigh*
ME: I guess that makes sense in Crazy Town.
K: You should know; you live there!
*smooches...so done with this parenting thing*
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why did I teach her to speak again? *sigh*
Friday, September 03, 2010
Just A Writer
People don't realize how powerful their words are sometimes, I swear.
During this whole unemployment ordeal I decided to enlist some professionals to help me find a job, any job, so I can stop robbin' old ladies and makin' a dash. And within a few weeks of each other two separate "professionals" informed me that I'm "just a writer" therefore it will be tough to place me anywhere.
Wow. Really? Thanks for straightening that up, because here I thought I was intelligent, professional, talented and an asset to any company. But no, I'm just a writer. An unpublished, mediocre, no-trade-having, unemployable writer.
*whew*
I'm glad that's settled! Now I can send this application into DeVry and get me some REAL marketable skills. Not these uppity degrees and book learnin', no sir, that's not worth the paper it's printed on. Then I'm gonna grab me that $9.25/hr call center job he was tryna shove down my throat, because that will definitely help me pay my rent, phone, internet, gas, electric, two hungry, growing kids and student loans. YUP.
This "writing" thing was clearly a phase and a waste of time. I should have known by the color of my skin that it wasn't going to take me places, right? I know that's what he wanted to say with his "You're just a writer" statement. I wasn't privileged enough to major in the arts. I should have majored in something tangible like math or business administration, right? Fuck my pen, right? $9.25/hr is where it's at, right?
And I have the AUDACITY to expect more. SMH. What was I thinking???
*smooches...giving myself until Sunday w/this pity party*
----------
and yes, at Smarty's request, the gift bags WILL contain penis. My gift bags always do... #privatejoke
During this whole unemployment ordeal I decided to enlist some professionals to help me find a job, any job, so I can stop robbin' old ladies and makin' a dash. And within a few weeks of each other two separate "professionals" informed me that I'm "just a writer" therefore it will be tough to place me anywhere.
Wow. Really? Thanks for straightening that up, because here I thought I was intelligent, professional, talented and an asset to any company. But no, I'm just a writer. An unpublished, mediocre, no-trade-having, unemployable writer.
*whew*
I'm glad that's settled! Now I can send this application into DeVry and get me some REAL marketable skills. Not these uppity degrees and book learnin', no sir, that's not worth the paper it's printed on. Then I'm gonna grab me that $9.25/hr call center job he was tryna shove down my throat, because that will definitely help me pay my rent, phone, internet, gas, electric, two hungry, growing kids and student loans. YUP.
This "writing" thing was clearly a phase and a waste of time. I should have known by the color of my skin that it wasn't going to take me places, right? I know that's what he wanted to say with his "You're just a writer" statement. I wasn't privileged enough to major in the arts. I should have majored in something tangible like math or business administration, right? Fuck my pen, right? $9.25/hr is where it's at, right?
And I have the AUDACITY to expect more. SMH. What was I thinking???
*smooches...giving myself until Sunday w/this pity party*
----------
and yes, at Smarty's request, the gift bags WILL contain penis. My gift bags always do... #privatejoke
Monday, August 23, 2010
Original Mommy
On Sunday, despite the incessant rain and my lateness, we had a great birthday party for N's 10th. Food was great (thanks, Derci!), friends and family were awesome and most importantly my baby girl had the best time.
Right now I just want to give a shout out to Mami for being the hostess with the mostest, K for being a great helper and big sister, KarrieB for trekkin out to Jersey with me, Cathi for driving all the way down from Western Massachusetts in that nasty weather to be there, her beau Mike for manning the grill and N's friends from camp for braving the rain and being adorable. It was awesome.
Initially I was worried about the party, about how I'd react and behave once I had to encounter my ex-husband and his new wife in light of all their less-than-stellar behavior lately. But once faced with them I knew Mami would not tolerate any poor behavior on my part, and you best believe that my fear of Mami's reprimand trumps any disgust I'm feeling for this man and his old lady.
I still let it be known that I'm stank with what they've been doing (behind Mami's back of course!), gave THAT heffa a sideways hello and kept it moving, still courteous but not going out of my way to do shit for them. KB said she could sense their awkwardness and a part of me was glad- the only reason they feel awkward is because they KNOW they're wrong and are trying not to stir the hive. So in my mind I was all "To hell with them and their awkward feelings!" It was N's day, though, so I just concentrated on her and her friends and making sure she had a smile on her face all day.
Besides, I'm kind of over them, you know? I can't spend another minute fussing about whatever pussy-hypnotization she's put over C to make him disregard his daughters. That is an issue between K and her dad at this point (thanks to everyone for your advice on that) and I let her confront her dad and THAT heffa and just let it go.
Plus K let me in on a little bit of information: she approached N about the whole wedding debacle, and N expressed her disinterest in her dad's decision to get married without inviting them. When K asked her why, she said because she didn't want to go anyway. When K again asked her why, N, bless her little heart, said, "Because I like my original Mommy."
So there you have it: Raquel-1, THAT Heffa-0
Not that I'm keeping score...
*smooches...being petty online because I can't in real life*
-----------
I so hate having to be a grown up in real life. HATE IT.
Right now I just want to give a shout out to Mami for being the hostess with the mostest, K for being a great helper and big sister, KarrieB for trekkin out to Jersey with me, Cathi for driving all the way down from Western Massachusetts in that nasty weather to be there, her beau Mike for manning the grill and N's friends from camp for braving the rain and being adorable. It was awesome.
Initially I was worried about the party, about how I'd react and behave once I had to encounter my ex-husband and his new wife in light of all their less-than-stellar behavior lately. But once faced with them I knew Mami would not tolerate any poor behavior on my part, and you best believe that my fear of Mami's reprimand trumps any disgust I'm feeling for this man and his old lady.
I still let it be known that I'm stank with what they've been doing (behind Mami's back of course!), gave THAT heffa a sideways hello and kept it moving, still courteous but not going out of my way to do shit for them. KB said she could sense their awkwardness and a part of me was glad- the only reason they feel awkward is because they KNOW they're wrong and are trying not to stir the hive. So in my mind I was all "To hell with them and their awkward feelings!" It was N's day, though, so I just concentrated on her and her friends and making sure she had a smile on her face all day.
Besides, I'm kind of over them, you know? I can't spend another minute fussing about whatever pussy-hypnotization she's put over C to make him disregard his daughters. That is an issue between K and her dad at this point (thanks to everyone for your advice on that) and I let her confront her dad and THAT heffa and just let it go.
Plus K let me in on a little bit of information: she approached N about the whole wedding debacle, and N expressed her disinterest in her dad's decision to get married without inviting them. When K asked her why, she said because she didn't want to go anyway. When K again asked her why, N, bless her little heart, said, "Because I like my original Mommy."
So there you have it: Raquel-1, THAT Heffa-0
Not that I'm keeping score...
*smooches...being petty online because I can't in real life*
-----------
I so hate having to be a grown up in real life. HATE IT.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
I'm That Student You Were Warned About In Teacher's College
Since my undeserved unemployment began, I've been looking into teaching again- on the grade school, HS and college level- and, well, it's funny that I should keep coming back to the one profession that I really never wanted to pursue. I mean, I do but I don't. Does that make sense? Like, I want to help learners of all ages do better, but I wish there were a little pill I could give them, something called INSTA-SMART, that they could just take once a day for a month and be smart for life. Because remember that the Waco School for Girls and the online teaching gig were disastrous and this current language instruction gig is alright but still...UGH...like I care about the preterite or the future conditional tense? WTF are those things anyway?
I was also reminded of the type of student I was, and wondered what my teachers must have thought of me. I don't mean in grades k-8 because I was an absolute DOLL; I did all my work and earned high marks and never talked back. The only time I ever had detention was for chronic lateness (SURPRISE! SURPRISE!). Well, maybe there was that ONE TIME I tried to get smart in Religion class, only to have Mr. Coughlin shut me down. But that hardly counts. It was Religion class. No one takes that shit seriously.
But once my freshman year of high school was over I started to cross over into the dark side of missing homework assignments, cutting classes and straight up not caring about grades. But to show you what a nerd I was, MY idea of not caring was getting Bs. Senior year, tho? LAWD... however did I manage to graduate?! I'll tell you what- if it wasn't for the fact that I test extremely well, I would have had to repeat a few classes. That's how often I skipped out and disregarded assignments. Once I had that college acceptance letter I basically phoned it in.
How FRUSTRATING it must have been for my teachers! I know for a fact my Civil Engineering teacher, Mr. Peemoeller, was DONE with me. D-O-N-E. Because he told me so on a daily basis. And my wood shop teacher TOLD MY MOM that I was getting the boys in my class to do my work for me. BITCH, WHAT?!?! Talk about HATERRRRRR! And please- in that class where we were using AutoCAD? Pssshhhhhh! My days were pretty much spent torturing the instructor and leaving subliminal messages in hidden layers on others' projects. Muahahahahahahha!
And then college. Let's have a moment of silence for all my potential...
...
...
...
Yeah, in college I went to a few classes, looked over a few books, turned in an assignment here and there, but mostly I napped in the back of the lecture halls and PARTIED like everyday was 1999. And when I say partied, I mean PAR-TEEEEED. Basically I borrowed thousands of thousands of dollars from Uncle Sam to go to keggers and drop acid. FUN TIMES. I can only imagine my professors in the lounge, talking shit. "You have Raquel in your Intro to World Religions class? Well good luck seeing an assignment from THAT one!" smh... I was the WORST!
So I'm looking back at all this and think- am I ready to deal with students like me? Smart kids with the ability to go far who piss it all away for one dumb reason after another? Will I be able to resist the urge to strangle these lazy mofos? Or will I go off on them in the hallway, like Mr. Peemoeller did to me that time he told me I should just skip college because I'm not disciplined enough for it?
I'm almost afraid to get callbacks...
*smooches...wondering if education is really ready for JADED*
----------
or should I just steer clear of other peoples' kids altogether??
I was also reminded of the type of student I was, and wondered what my teachers must have thought of me. I don't mean in grades k-8 because I was an absolute DOLL; I did all my work and earned high marks and never talked back. The only time I ever had detention was for chronic lateness (SURPRISE! SURPRISE!). Well, maybe there was that ONE TIME I tried to get smart in Religion class, only to have Mr. Coughlin shut me down. But that hardly counts. It was Religion class. No one takes that shit seriously.
But once my freshman year of high school was over I started to cross over into the dark side of missing homework assignments, cutting classes and straight up not caring about grades. But to show you what a nerd I was, MY idea of not caring was getting Bs. Senior year, tho? LAWD... however did I manage to graduate?! I'll tell you what- if it wasn't for the fact that I test extremely well, I would have had to repeat a few classes. That's how often I skipped out and disregarded assignments. Once I had that college acceptance letter I basically phoned it in.
How FRUSTRATING it must have been for my teachers! I know for a fact my Civil Engineering teacher, Mr. Peemoeller, was DONE with me. D-O-N-E. Because he told me so on a daily basis. And my wood shop teacher TOLD MY MOM that I was getting the boys in my class to do my work for me. BITCH, WHAT?!?! Talk about HATERRRRRR! And please- in that class where we were using AutoCAD? Pssshhhhhh! My days were pretty much spent torturing the instructor and leaving subliminal messages in hidden layers on others' projects. Muahahahahahahha!
And then college. Let's have a moment of silence for all my potential...
...
...
...
Yeah, in college I went to a few classes, looked over a few books, turned in an assignment here and there, but mostly I napped in the back of the lecture halls and PARTIED like everyday was 1999. And when I say partied, I mean PAR-TEEEEED. Basically I borrowed thousands of thousands of dollars from Uncle Sam to go to keggers and drop acid. FUN TIMES. I can only imagine my professors in the lounge, talking shit. "You have Raquel in your Intro to World Religions class? Well good luck seeing an assignment from THAT one!" smh... I was the WORST!
So I'm looking back at all this and think- am I ready to deal with students like me? Smart kids with the ability to go far who piss it all away for one dumb reason after another? Will I be able to resist the urge to strangle these lazy mofos? Or will I go off on them in the hallway, like Mr. Peemoeller did to me that time he told me I should just skip college because I'm not disciplined enough for it?
I'm almost afraid to get callbacks...
*smooches...wondering if education is really ready for JADED*
----------
or should I just steer clear of other peoples' kids altogether??
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Is It Better To Know?
I love movies that make me think. I mean, Super Troopers aside, I prefer my entertainment force me to flex my cerebral muscles. And I especially love it when I choose a film hoping it will be dumb and mindless and instead find it deep and though-provoking.
That's how I felt after watching Timer (starring Emma Caulfield...Anyanka from Buffy, the Vampire Slayer). The film creates for us a world where science has been able to determine when a person will meet their soul mate, right down to the second, by means of a timer that is implanted on your person and counts down to D-DAY. Our protagonist, Una, is obsessed with finding her ONE from the beginning of the story, and what unfolds is a very witty and clever romantic comedy that begs the questions: How do you know if the person you're dating is the one? Would you want to know? And when you know, are they the one because you were told or because they ARE?
Think about the person you are with. Do you feel in your heart that you love them? Now what if you got this timer implant and it told you someone else was your soul mate, and you'd be meeting them in three days? Would you love your somebody any less? For a commitment-phobe like myself who's afraid of getting hurt MORE than I'm afraid of anything else, it initially seems like a dream come true to have all the guess work taken out of love.
(But then again, I'm the same person that would like to have certain people erased from my memory ala Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind!)
I identified with Caulfield's character as she fought with the guy she was dating- he didn't have a timer, she did and it had yet to activate. She was looking to leave him because in her eyes continuing the relationship was pointless if they weren't soul mates. And in the midst of this fight, he drops some KNOWLEDGE on both of us:
"Jesus, Una, what do you want?"
"A guarantee!"
"No. Your problem isn't that I can't give you a guarantee, it's that you can't give me one."
BAM. IN. MY. FACE.
I can't give the guarantee. Just LIGHT BULB all over the place.
When I sit and think about all my "gone bad" relationships, I was never unsure if the guy liked me. For the most part, they all liked me. They said so often and showed it and pursued me. The common denominator in all this? Me. Pulling away. Not committing. Always uncertain.
So then I wonder, would this timer solve my problem? Would I be willing to give up the butterflies that take over my stomach with every kiss to have science point me in the right direction and decide for me? Am I that much of a control freak?
Or do I (we) heed the words of fake scientist Dr. Ian Malcolm (YES I'm about to quote from Jurassic Park!): "Yeah, but your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could, they didn't stop to think if they should."
Throughout the film we hear both sides- those that swear by the timer, those that find it a burden, and those that don't believe in it at all. In fact, Una's father has a timer that has yet to go off. His girlfriend? Well, she removed hers when it told her HE wasn't HER one. "I love him. Fuck it," is all she offered as an explanation. People, SHE GAVE UP HER SCIENTIFICALLY DETERMINED SOUL MATE TO STAY WITH THIS DUDE!!! Does that NOT blow your mind? Is it just me?? Who does that? Would I be that strong in my convictions?
Would you?
*smooches...unable to finish this post because my brain exploded*
----------
with every question I asked myself three more arose. I think I need to keep reminding myself this was just a film and move the fuck on...
That's how I felt after watching Timer (starring Emma Caulfield...Anyanka from Buffy, the Vampire Slayer). The film creates for us a world where science has been able to determine when a person will meet their soul mate, right down to the second, by means of a timer that is implanted on your person and counts down to D-DAY. Our protagonist, Una, is obsessed with finding her ONE from the beginning of the story, and what unfolds is a very witty and clever romantic comedy that begs the questions: How do you know if the person you're dating is the one? Would you want to know? And when you know, are they the one because you were told or because they ARE?
Think about the person you are with. Do you feel in your heart that you love them? Now what if you got this timer implant and it told you someone else was your soul mate, and you'd be meeting them in three days? Would you love your somebody any less? For a commitment-phobe like myself who's afraid of getting hurt MORE than I'm afraid of anything else, it initially seems like a dream come true to have all the guess work taken out of love.
(But then again, I'm the same person that would like to have certain people erased from my memory ala Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind!)
I identified with Caulfield's character as she fought with the guy she was dating- he didn't have a timer, she did and it had yet to activate. She was looking to leave him because in her eyes continuing the relationship was pointless if they weren't soul mates. And in the midst of this fight, he drops some KNOWLEDGE on both of us:
"Jesus, Una, what do you want?"
"A guarantee!"
"No. Your problem isn't that I can't give you a guarantee, it's that you can't give me one."
BAM. IN. MY. FACE.
I can't give the guarantee. Just LIGHT BULB all over the place.
When I sit and think about all my "gone bad" relationships, I was never unsure if the guy liked me. For the most part, they all liked me. They said so often and showed it and pursued me. The common denominator in all this? Me. Pulling away. Not committing. Always uncertain.
So then I wonder, would this timer solve my problem? Would I be willing to give up the butterflies that take over my stomach with every kiss to have science point me in the right direction and decide for me? Am I that much of a control freak?
Or do I (we) heed the words of fake scientist Dr. Ian Malcolm (YES I'm about to quote from Jurassic Park!): "Yeah, but your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could, they didn't stop to think if they should."
Throughout the film we hear both sides- those that swear by the timer, those that find it a burden, and those that don't believe in it at all. In fact, Una's father has a timer that has yet to go off. His girlfriend? Well, she removed hers when it told her HE wasn't HER one. "I love him. Fuck it," is all she offered as an explanation. People, SHE GAVE UP HER SCIENTIFICALLY DETERMINED SOUL MATE TO STAY WITH THIS DUDE!!! Does that NOT blow your mind? Is it just me?? Who does that? Would I be that strong in my convictions?
Would you?
*smooches...unable to finish this post because my brain exploded*
----------
with every question I asked myself three more arose. I think I need to keep reminding myself this was just a film and move the fuck on...
Friday, July 09, 2010
"The Time Will Come One Day"
I've been hit in the face with a few setbacks in the last few weeks, the kind that make me want to throw up my hands in defeat and scream NO MAS. I QUIT. YOU WIN. And just take any old stupid job, become another cog in the wheel, if I may.
Actually, I've had some major setbacks all year but whatever, those are major ones that are never ending. I'm specifically talking about some new ones that decided to creep in and really mess with my head.
First, you all know about the ex and his foolish decision to quit his job. That was a major blow to my patience. A whole lot of me wants to beat his ass, but the side of me that's afraid of jail is keeping me calm.
Then, work dried up. Not at the language center- that's going well. It could be better but eh, I'll take what I can at this point. But freelancing for the PR firm (which I hated anyway) is at a standstill and new projects? What new projects? Because I can't find any paying gigs in my field. I should have stayed in the sciences because this writing bullshit is just that- bullshit.
But the latest in a long line of GRRRRR moments was and is that my little writing group, La Pluma y La Tinta, has fallen apart; my Letters I'll Never Send blog ceased getting submissions, and my Jaded Takes On “web series” seems to be on permanent hiatus. And I'm frustrated. It almost feels like everything I create just turns to shit. And yes, that may be a little dramatic but that's how I feel right now.
It is extremely hard to be my own cheerleader. I'm just not that peppy GO GET EM type of gal. And when I start something with the expectation that there will be others to help keep things moving along (as opposed to just me doing everything) and suddenly I'm the only one there...it's just really disheartening. And it's making me want to just shrivel away into the obscurity from whence I came. I already have issues motivating myself- if those around me are ALSO unmotivated then shit will just never get done.
Same as it's not getting done now.
In the meantime, I'm trying so hard not to crumble. So if y'all don't mind, cease from asking me how anything is going these days. This post is to tell you: IT'S NOT GOING WELL. I DON'T KNOW WHEN MY NEXT READING IS SCHEDULED OR WHEN THE NEXT LETTERS POST WILL GO UP. I DON'T KNOW WHEN I WILL BE ABLE TO FILM ANOTHER SPORTS SEGMENT AND IF YOU ASK ABOUT MY THESIS OR JOB PROSPECTS I WILL KILL YOU.
The End.
*smooches...truly sick of all these reminders of my failures*
--------------
and please don't try to be funny in the comments. I'm being serious. In fact, I'm closing comments because a lot of you don't know how to act...
Actually, I've had some major setbacks all year but whatever, those are major ones that are never ending. I'm specifically talking about some new ones that decided to creep in and really mess with my head.
First, you all know about the ex and his foolish decision to quit his job. That was a major blow to my patience. A whole lot of me wants to beat his ass, but the side of me that's afraid of jail is keeping me calm.
Then, work dried up. Not at the language center- that's going well. It could be better but eh, I'll take what I can at this point. But freelancing for the PR firm (which I hated anyway) is at a standstill and new projects? What new projects? Because I can't find any paying gigs in my field. I should have stayed in the sciences because this writing bullshit is just that- bullshit.
But the latest in a long line of GRRRRR moments was and is that my little writing group, La Pluma y La Tinta, has fallen apart; my Letters I'll Never Send blog ceased getting submissions, and my Jaded Takes On “web series” seems to be on permanent hiatus. And I'm frustrated. It almost feels like everything I create just turns to shit. And yes, that may be a little dramatic but that's how I feel right now.
It is extremely hard to be my own cheerleader. I'm just not that peppy GO GET EM type of gal. And when I start something with the expectation that there will be others to help keep things moving along (as opposed to just me doing everything) and suddenly I'm the only one there...it's just really disheartening. And it's making me want to just shrivel away into the obscurity from whence I came. I already have issues motivating myself- if those around me are ALSO unmotivated then shit will just never get done.
Same as it's not getting done now.
In the meantime, I'm trying so hard not to crumble. So if y'all don't mind, cease from asking me how anything is going these days. This post is to tell you: IT'S NOT GOING WELL. I DON'T KNOW WHEN MY NEXT READING IS SCHEDULED OR WHEN THE NEXT LETTERS POST WILL GO UP. I DON'T KNOW WHEN I WILL BE ABLE TO FILM ANOTHER SPORTS SEGMENT AND IF YOU ASK ABOUT MY THESIS OR JOB PROSPECTS I WILL KILL YOU.
The End.
*smooches...truly sick of all these reminders of my failures*
--------------
and please don't try to be funny in the comments. I'm being serious. In fact, I'm closing comments because a lot of you don't know how to act...
Wednesday, July 07, 2010
"Without Me Your Pimpin Ain't The Same"
You might find this hard to believe, but even a JadedNYer like myself is still amazed at people behaving like assholes. Yes, I know. Shocking.
But honestly, I don't see the point in that sort of behavior (anymore. Yes, I acknowledge that I was a total asshole to my ex-husband the whole time we lived on campus at Waco. I've already admitted to this. Why y'all gotta be bringing up old shit?! Dang! Can I live?!) And why anyone would choose to be that way.
I bring this up because it was brought to my attention that a guy I used to talk to is a complete asshole. This information was related to me by two different people, unrelated to me, him and each other, thousands of months apart. I can only assume it's true.
Except he was never an asshole to me. Well, maybe towards the end he was, but that's because it was ending, however during I can't say that I ever experienced any asshole tendencies from him. He was sweet, considerate, giving, fun- all that shit, so when these two people regaled me with their tales of his assholery I was honestly dumbfounded.
Especially because during a recent PMS week I found myself missing him, cyber-stalking him, wondering what went wrong and if it was salvageable. But just when Lady Estrogen was about to cry and get all swoony, El Generalissimo came thru with a vicious backhanded slap of reality for that ass:
"You don't want him back and you don't miss him. You just hate the thought that he's not after you. You are bothered by the fact that you can't flaunt a bigger, better, faster MORE you in his face. You want to stroll down BK with a lovely Rasta on your arm just to rub his nose in it. You want a lush and lavish writing career so you can pop bottles in his face. You only want to get in shape so he can see what he missed out on. You want all his friends to say, 'daaaaamn, son! You gave THAT up? Yo, you STUPID!'
"And you want to be able to walk up to him and smile and say hello and appear to be the bigger person. But you're not. You're petty and immature and quite bitter about the whole thing. You, my dear, don't want him. You want him to want you like the vain bitch you've always been. Snap out of it!"
In one wordy monologue of real talk and tough love, El Generalissimo enlightened me about why I'm not moving forward as much as I'd like; why I can't get rid of these last 10lbs; why my love life is still ghost: I'm still too concerned with what others will think and how they see me. Not just this dude but everybody. I thought I'd licked it but I didn't.
If I'm gonna get ahead it's gotta be for me. The weight? It won't leave til I love myself enough to make it leave. My aspirations have to be pure of heart or The Universe will just continue to shit all over me. I need to let go of MY inner asshole. Only then will I get all the good stuff I deserve!
In the meantime, tho, don't let me see that fool in the street *side eye* He WILL regret all manner of thangs. And that's some MO' truth for YOUR ass, from one Asshole to another *b-girl stance*
*smooches...trying my darndest to GROW UP*
----------
but it's hella hard, y'all... hella hard!
But honestly, I don't see the point in that sort of behavior (anymore. Yes, I acknowledge that I was a total asshole to my ex-husband the whole time we lived on campus at Waco. I've already admitted to this. Why y'all gotta be bringing up old shit?! Dang! Can I live?!) And why anyone would choose to be that way.
I bring this up because it was brought to my attention that a guy I used to talk to is a complete asshole. This information was related to me by two different people, unrelated to me, him and each other, thousands of months apart. I can only assume it's true.
Except he was never an asshole to me. Well, maybe towards the end he was, but that's because it was ending, however during I can't say that I ever experienced any asshole tendencies from him. He was sweet, considerate, giving, fun- all that shit, so when these two people regaled me with their tales of his assholery I was honestly dumbfounded.
Especially because during a recent PMS week I found myself missing him, cyber-stalking him, wondering what went wrong and if it was salvageable. But just when Lady Estrogen was about to cry and get all swoony, El Generalissimo came thru with a vicious backhanded slap of reality for that ass:
"You don't want him back and you don't miss him. You just hate the thought that he's not after you. You are bothered by the fact that you can't flaunt a bigger, better, faster MORE you in his face. You want to stroll down BK with a lovely Rasta on your arm just to rub his nose in it. You want a lush and lavish writing career so you can pop bottles in his face. You only want to get in shape so he can see what he missed out on. You want all his friends to say, 'daaaaamn, son! You gave THAT up? Yo, you STUPID!'
"And you want to be able to walk up to him and smile and say hello and appear to be the bigger person. But you're not. You're petty and immature and quite bitter about the whole thing. You, my dear, don't want him. You want him to want you like the vain bitch you've always been. Snap out of it!"
In one wordy monologue of real talk and tough love, El Generalissimo enlightened me about why I'm not moving forward as much as I'd like; why I can't get rid of these last 10lbs; why my love life is still ghost: I'm still too concerned with what others will think and how they see me. Not just this dude but everybody. I thought I'd licked it but I didn't.
If I'm gonna get ahead it's gotta be for me. The weight? It won't leave til I love myself enough to make it leave. My aspirations have to be pure of heart or The Universe will just continue to shit all over me. I need to let go of MY inner asshole. Only then will I get all the good stuff I deserve!
In the meantime, tho, don't let me see that fool in the street *side eye* He WILL regret all manner of thangs. And that's some MO' truth for YOUR ass, from one Asshole to another *b-girl stance*
*smooches...trying my darndest to GROW UP*
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but it's hella hard, y'all... hella hard!
Monday, July 05, 2010
"Listen, Yo' Ass Is About To Be Missin......"
My ex-husband C and I have these two beautiful girls that we've promised to bring up as best we can even after we split up. That was the whole point of a quick and friendly divorce.
These girls grow like weeds and need food, clothes, etc all the time. I pay more than I should for a crappy apartment because it's safe and the schools are great. I hate that I depend on child support payments to make ends meet but it's a fact in my life right now and it's for the good of my children so I swallowed my pride and told the lawyer YES, I'd like to sue for child support.
So color me surprised when my ex-husband announced he quit his job at a private university (which by the way would have paid for my soon-to-be-graduating-from-HS daughter's college tuition) and was going to move in with his fiance and look for a new job.
No new job lined up. No separate bedroom for my babies in the fiance's house. No savings. No real plan in place. Just the foolish notion that in THIS economy he should have no trouble finding something new because he has his Master's degree.
AND?!
Motherfucker *I* have my Master's degree. The dude that was waiting in line behind me at the Unemployment Office? He was a CFO somewhere for 12 years, and told me of his friend with a PhD who had to move back home with his parents.
But I'm sure you'll have NO TROUBLE looking for work.
I swear, this negro STAY testing me...
Like how many new ways will he have for displaying his lameness to me? Does he not think I don't already regret ever meeting him everyday of my life? Is that not enough? He has to go and put my children's well-being in jeopardy? I wonder if he remembers that I got laid off last year, and that I've been looking for work since June of 2009 with no luck? And that I depend on that money to help with the expenses I incur raising the kids he only sees every other weekend and during the summer break?
I don't mind pulling my own weight because I do and I can, and I'm not trying to be petty about money, but man I fucking divorced you so that I wouldn't have to pull YOUR dead-ass-weight anymore but here I am, once again, scrambling to find a way to bail MY little family out of YOUR financial MESS.
Jesus H. Christ!!! I hope he proves me wrong and finds a job by August...
*smooches...ready for that blue pill right about now*
-----------
I think it's safe to say that our friendship and/or amicable divorce is on the rocks. Permanently. The worst thing I ever did in life was fuck that man...
These girls grow like weeds and need food, clothes, etc all the time. I pay more than I should for a crappy apartment because it's safe and the schools are great. I hate that I depend on child support payments to make ends meet but it's a fact in my life right now and it's for the good of my children so I swallowed my pride and told the lawyer YES, I'd like to sue for child support.
So color me surprised when my ex-husband announced he quit his job at a private university (which by the way would have paid for my soon-to-be-graduating-from-HS daughter's college tuition) and was going to move in with his fiance and look for a new job.
No new job lined up. No separate bedroom for my babies in the fiance's house. No savings. No real plan in place. Just the foolish notion that in THIS economy he should have no trouble finding something new because he has his Master's degree.
AND?!
Motherfucker *I* have my Master's degree. The dude that was waiting in line behind me at the Unemployment Office? He was a CFO somewhere for 12 years, and told me of his friend with a PhD who had to move back home with his parents.
But I'm sure you'll have NO TROUBLE looking for work.
I swear, this negro STAY testing me...
Like how many new ways will he have for displaying his lameness to me? Does he not think I don't already regret ever meeting him everyday of my life? Is that not enough? He has to go and put my children's well-being in jeopardy? I wonder if he remembers that I got laid off last year, and that I've been looking for work since June of 2009 with no luck? And that I depend on that money to help with the expenses I incur raising the kids he only sees every other weekend and during the summer break?
I don't mind pulling my own weight because I do and I can, and I'm not trying to be petty about money, but man I fucking divorced you so that I wouldn't have to pull YOUR dead-ass-weight anymore but here I am, once again, scrambling to find a way to bail MY little family out of YOUR financial MESS.
Jesus H. Christ!!! I hope he proves me wrong and finds a job by August...
*smooches...ready for that blue pill right about now*
-----------
I think it's safe to say that our friendship and/or amicable divorce is on the rocks. Permanently. The worst thing I ever did in life was fuck that man...
Friday, July 02, 2010
"I Got A Feeling There's A Miracle Due"
2010 has been mighty rude to me so far. Just showing NO LOVE in any way shape or form. What's worse, my anxiety levels have increased to the point where I'm snacking like my life depended on it. I have the food baby to prove it. Plus my right leg is acting up- don't ask me why because if you do I'm just gonna tell you what WebMD told me: cancer & gangrene.
And don't even get me started on the nightmares. LORD the NIGHTMARES. Twice already I've dreamed about a tidal wave taking out NYC. And in this dream I just stick around on some ol' "I'm going down with the ship" nonsense while everyone else heads inland. Really, though? I wanted to punch myself in the throat! Then there's the dream I had where someone I know was upset at a person that wasn't me, but decided that we ALL needed to die and therefore had a hit out on me as well. I had to send my girls away to a secret location so they'd be safe but I stayed in Brooklyn, dodging in and out of the shadows trying not to get got.
But on my way home from the market today a little daydream played in my head, one where a certain literary journal loved my story so much it got published and suddenly my phone was abuzz with people wanting to know who this next, great, freakin awesome literary STAR was. That little fantasy totally helped me forget that I was lugging home 128oz of juice with arms that were beaten and battered by one measly yoga class. It also gave me a dash of hope. Just when I was about to quit, too, this fantasy pops up, almost as if it's in cahoots with Ms. Amber Cabral, whom I suspect wrote this post with me (or other creatives like me) in mind.
So yet again, on the brink of giving up the dream, I didn't. Dos Passos Review, you ain't ready for me...
Seriously, something good had better be on its way to me because this is NOT how I want to spend my summer: fat, anxious, depressed, stressed and running from invisible assassins. What kind of life is this?
*smooches...giving The Universe the side eye*
----------
because REALLY- I think I've done my penance. can I please get my fabulous reward now??
And don't even get me started on the nightmares. LORD the NIGHTMARES. Twice already I've dreamed about a tidal wave taking out NYC. And in this dream I just stick around on some ol' "I'm going down with the ship" nonsense while everyone else heads inland. Really, though? I wanted to punch myself in the throat! Then there's the dream I had where someone I know was upset at a person that wasn't me, but decided that we ALL needed to die and therefore had a hit out on me as well. I had to send my girls away to a secret location so they'd be safe but I stayed in Brooklyn, dodging in and out of the shadows trying not to get got.
But on my way home from the market today a little daydream played in my head, one where a certain literary journal loved my story so much it got published and suddenly my phone was abuzz with people wanting to know who this next, great, freakin awesome literary STAR was. That little fantasy totally helped me forget that I was lugging home 128oz of juice with arms that were beaten and battered by one measly yoga class. It also gave me a dash of hope. Just when I was about to quit, too, this fantasy pops up, almost as if it's in cahoots with Ms. Amber Cabral, whom I suspect wrote this post with me (or other creatives like me) in mind.
So yet again, on the brink of giving up the dream, I didn't. Dos Passos Review, you ain't ready for me...
Seriously, something good had better be on its way to me because this is NOT how I want to spend my summer: fat, anxious, depressed, stressed and running from invisible assassins. What kind of life is this?
*smooches...giving The Universe the side eye*
----------
because REALLY- I think I've done my penance. can I please get my fabulous reward now??
Tuesday, March 02, 2010
"...Everybody's Flying And Never Touch The Sky..."
It's been a while since I took me a little blogging/social media break. Now seems as good a time as any. Why? Oh the usual bullshit...I let some stuff go for far too long that I should have dealt with before and now I have no choice but to deal with it and it has me all down and depressed and verklempt so I need to isolate myself in order to figure it all out. That's all. Nothing major.
But before I go on sabbatical I want to mention a few things, because I'm not sure how long I will be gone:
1- Jamie Cullum is in NYC this week (at the Town Hall on the 4th), Res is in Brooklyn on the 12th and V.V. Brown is at the Mercury Lounge on the 27th and I want to see all these artists in concert. Feel free to sponsor those little outings for me.
2- My next literary reading is on the 20th. It's Women's History Month so that will probably be the theme of the event. If you want to participate or attend, contact me at laplumaylatinta@gmail.com
3- Monday Musings will most likely still be going on this month, even if I'm not blogging or tweeting, so be on the lookout for show info every week.
4- I'm thinking about putting my Netflix account on hold this month. I'm not sure if I will be able to do it but that subscription is a fucking crutch I need to shed. Quickly. I fear that K might strangle me in my sleep, though, because she's heavy into "Lost" right now, sooooo, maybe not.
5- I've really enjoyed being single, truly madly deeply enjoyed it. But, err, it's starting to get a bit old. Just thought I'd put that out there in The Universe...
*smooches...signing off for a week or so*
----------
I'm sure you'll be 10x more productive w/out this pesky blog taking up your day :D
But before I go on sabbatical I want to mention a few things, because I'm not sure how long I will be gone:
1- Jamie Cullum is in NYC this week (at the Town Hall on the 4th), Res is in Brooklyn on the 12th and V.V. Brown is at the Mercury Lounge on the 27th and I want to see all these artists in concert. Feel free to sponsor those little outings for me.
2- My next literary reading is on the 20th. It's Women's History Month so that will probably be the theme of the event. If you want to participate or attend, contact me at laplumaylatinta@gmail.com
3- Monday Musings will most likely still be going on this month, even if I'm not blogging or tweeting, so be on the lookout for show info every week.
4- I'm thinking about putting my Netflix account on hold this month. I'm not sure if I will be able to do it but that subscription is a fucking crutch I need to shed. Quickly. I fear that K might strangle me in my sleep, though, because she's heavy into "Lost" right now, sooooo, maybe not.
5- I've really enjoyed being single, truly madly deeply enjoyed it. But, err, it's starting to get a bit old. Just thought I'd put that out there in The Universe...
*smooches...signing off for a week or so*
----------
I'm sure you'll be 10x more productive w/out this pesky blog taking up your day :D
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