Eh, She's Not So Bad...

I'll Be Back

2012-01-26T17:43:00.000-05:00

Once I get over having my feelings stomped on...

m,
licking her wounds lest they fester...

Black Rock Coalition

2012-01-11T00:35:00.002-05:00

get with it.

m,
grinding

2012

2012-01-03T23:50:00.002-05:00

What The Fuck...

2011-12-31T15:36:00.001-05:00

Is this bitch trynna say?

oh. really?

m...
tight.

I Don't Make This Shit Up

2011-12-22T14:06:00.001-05:00

I Said It

2011-12-22T06:42:00.001-05:00

The Fickle Heart

2011-12-12T20:57:00.001-05:00

Can be tamed... but only by the talented...

Welcome to the Sonhouse era...

M.
looks up to 6'7"

I can go from

2011-11-23T12:21:00.004-05:00

"I love" to "this motherfucker here" in 3, 2, 1...
I wish I had stayed away... now the situation will take years to abate.
Yet every time tosh.0 airs, I am saddened half way through my laughter...
Shit.

M,
exercising forget mode - now.

Recovery

2011-11-22T11:31:00.007-05:00

I failed the challenge having been thrown for a loop. One question knocked me off kilter to the point that I could not find my stride. Funny thing, feelings. I know there was no intent to harm. I can only blame myself for feeling the way I did. I cannot be angry that there was no reciprocity. I must admit that it always hurts to discover that someone you care deeply for, doesn't care at all. I'm not used to anyone I know being so very devoid of feeling. I have yet to become accostomed to those who don't know how deep the rabbit hole goes and the intensity of my capacity to vibrate to their rythms.

However, all it takes is one shining moment. When you walk into a room and he can't take his eyes off you. When the desire to be near you supercedes all rational thought. When the last words you read before you sleep are "you are so beautiful" and you know it's not the outside that he refers to, this makes a wonderful balm. It goes a long way to soothing a blistered heart.

Mom was right, it's not always who you want, sometimes it's who wants you that makes all the difference in a day. I didn't wake up with the sick sense of loss I've been feeling for weeks. Instead I woke with a smile.

M,
enchanted...

My fave fotog... J.S.York... and um: sploosh...

Post Apocolyptic

2011-11-02T18:51:00.005-04:00

I am the queen of awkward. I would go into detail but its too painful. It is never easy to realize how deeply you care for someone until you have to walk away. Especially if you left something behind. I hate going back for shit. There's always that gut wrenching moment when the back gets turned. I'm never good at that so I tend to keep walking when I go. Ah, I'm so damn emo.

On a lighter note, Thanksgiving is coming. Now don't get me wrong, I don't believe in celebrating genocide but I am happy that it gives me an excuse to see my mousie, the sister and the princess.

Ok. That's it. I'm out.

M,
finally accepting that its wasn't that serious... and wasn't ever gonna be...

Feline Mortality...

2011-11-01T08:59:00.009-04:00

Or Curiosity Sucks... pick a title...

Generally its good to know what the hell is going on with everything around you. Other times its best to mind your damn business. But not me. No sir. I have a strange need to know. Seems I find no comfort in the dark, so I constantly seek the light, no matter how harsh and glaring it is. This gets me into enough trouble that it begins to make me wonder why I just don't mind my neck when I know I won't like what I find.

The short version? I had a plan to make a move that should have brought me some measure of satiation. When the plan didn't come to fruition, I felt the old familiar itch. My gut told me there was more to the all than met the eye. This prompted me to ask a question.

Funny thing, questions. More often than not, in certain situations, if you're asking you already know the answer. I'm not sure if the need for confirmation that you're correct is just your subconscious's way of feeding your ego's desire to be seen as irrefutably spot-on. Dammit. I hate it when I'm right. And I was.

So right, that when the answer was received, my heart folded up painfully within my chest. I stared at the response until my eyes blurred, hoping that the lack of optical focus due to a prism of tears would change what I saw. Hope. It tends to fuck people for cheap.

Well, there it was. I found what I sought, as bitter as it tasted to my mind. Not much to do now but be the adult I claim to be. When one has a mind to build a house, one does not choose a plot of land where construction is already being done by another. While I may not be sure if I am going to erect an abode where I stand, I am most assuredly not one to choose a place that is occupied... not even by squatters.

I have debated the wisdom of my query. Mostly because of hope. Hope that I had the option to build, rather than occupy for a spell. Would I have rather wandered the acres blindly? As much as I wish it were true that ignorance is bliss, for me it is not. There be nothing worse for me than coming into the know when it is too late to extract myself from the dance.

Verily I say unto thee: I wish I hadn't fucking asked, and the smaller part of me knows this to be true. But the larger is thankful that I have once again become the questioning kind. The truth sets me free, albeit painfully. So I will apply balm to the soul. I will leave off the dance. I will allow the heartsickness to heal. And I will be happy that I'm me.

M,
Gonna mind her business for a spell...

Son House - Death Letter Blues

2011-10-31T22:09:00.000-04:00

blues to make ya feel alright... yessir.

bluesin'

Stans... How Many Of Us Have Them

2011-10-30T12:05:00.000-04:00

I see you eyeballing my spot, you corn-pone strumpet.
I hope you find what you're looking for.
I'm pretty sure you like what you see since I'm some kind of special if I do say so myself (and I do... repeatedly)
But do me a favor, kindly stop hanging from my nuts so hard... you're making walking difficult.

m.
"me a watch dem, a watch dem, a watch me" ahahahahhaahha.
clowns.

J*DaVeY - Whatchalookin@ | Kill 4 Fun

2011-10-29T11:19:00.000-04:00

Yeah. I'm soooooooo cheating on the challenge. I tended bar until some nutso hour. Give a broad a break. Besides, J*Davey is dope so it's not like I'm leaving you unattended. Enjoy.

M,
tired as fuck...

38 And Counting...

2011-10-28T05:10:00.012-04:00

If it were at all possible to actually post pictures of people next to their descriptors, my face would be next to slacker in the world of Merriam-Webster. I make looking busy while doing fuckall, an art form. I always feel so pressed upon but sometimes accomplish so very little. I was just challenged by Daowouhd to go 38 days at full throttle. I accepted the challenge. The deal is I have to write at least 3 sentences about my day within 24 hours of each post, chronicling what I feel I've accomplished all day. It's a good thing I know that Wouhd loves me like no other because if not, I'd swear he were trying to introduce me to self torture.

So here's the nutshell version first post:

*I spent 40 minutes chatting with Wouhd. It would have been better if I had a cam on this hunk of junk (let me not push it because ol betsy windows 7 will crash for pure spite). I really do love that guy. If he hadn't moved back to Japan, I'd probably be Mrs. Yamahiro by now. Alas, everything that can happen, will. Fucking Murphy. Anyway, the challenge is to give more than my normal 80% for 38 days. One day for each year of my life. They say if you repeat anything enough it becomes a habit. Wouhd thinks this will foster better habits in me. Cross your fingers and pray for the M.

*Friends have been dropping like tse tse flies. One of my best friends is mad at me because I fucked up and wasn't on point when she was putting herself out of her way to help me. I gotta figure out a way to apologize since I am the suck. One of them I let go because I was making her unhappy and it was about to get real. Another I cut off since he was being a mega douche and I'm too old for the fuckery. I was thinking about how much I missed them and how deeply it hurt me when I saw this:

It applies (Mo being the only exception) so I guess that covers that. I'm done dealing with shit or people that make me unhappy. I was always one of those people that would maintain communication with folks that are toxic out of sheer loyalty. Don't get me wrong, if I barely know you, you're fucked 10 ways til Sunday. I have NO problem cussing that ass out. However, if I care for someone and know them for some time, I will put up with ALL KINDS of pure shit. I've run out of toilet paper. No more shit for me.

*I'm going to spend Thanksgiving with my sister and two nieces. I can't wait to see the princess and my mouse. WIN!

*I've been hanging out with a friend that I've known for a few years and it's rather odd. It seems to me that people fall for each other in direct correlation to the time they spend together. I'm no different. I really dig dude. Always have. Never pushed the issue though. Friendships always last longer than relationships in my world. But holy shit I'd so go there... Good thing he's never been interested in me that way or it would seriously complicate my life.

*My gentleman friend has been sickly. It makes me afraid to age. It seems so damned complicated and sickening. Also it doesn't look like much fun. No wonder he has me around, without me he'd die from normalcy. I may be crazy but I'm never boring.

*I'm waiting patiently to start working regularly. The holdup is happening because my boss is in transition. The job is perfect though. I love music and nightlife so this is going to be epic. Still, until things settle down, I'm broker than the 10 commandments. My mom wants me to get a traditional job, I feel bile rise in my throat every time I think about conforming. Granted, I could hustle my writing a little harder (hence the 38 day challenge), but a 9-5 would kill me dead. Mostly I've been eking by and tending bar at a speak-easy. I won't lie, slinging drinks at a hush-hush is loads of fun if you can handle the hours. The only problem is my tendency to hang out after work, thereby nullifying the whole point of working in the first place.

*I constantly complain about the time I do not have to share with people and the truth is: I just don't want to go any damn where. I'm one of those if-I-think-about-it-it-won't-happen lazy fuckers. For instance: go to Brooklyn for a photo shoot? You're out of your gourd. But the hour I spent thinking about how much I don't want to travel to Brooklyn, I would have seen me half way there. Let's not forget I've been to Brooklyn for shittier reasons than to have an amazing photographer take pictures of me. Go fucking figure.

*Speaking of amazing photographers, one of them actually does want to shoot me. I'm all for it except I'm all shy and awkward on the low. Seriously. Academically, I know I'm one sexy motherfucker. Internally, I'm just M from the block. A nice, no where near normal, gal from around the way that will cuss you out and give you love in the same breath. It weirds me out (and always has) when people want to capture me in picture form. They shoot gorgeous/artistic/anorexic/insanely tall women... I don't fit in... but hey, if I keep getting the requests everybody can't be wrong.

*Married men and men with girlfriends really need to stay away from me. Rub me the wrong way and I will blow your spot up. Then when your woman hands you your ass on a plate don't get mad at me. No one told you to go hunting outside of your territory. The M is good for the BOOM!

*I just found out last night that someone I thought was hella attractive thought I was attractive too. Whodathunkit?!

*An ex wants me back. For the long haul. There's got to be something in the water because old time somethings are falling all up out the insulation. I mean it. Some are a breath of Frsh Aire. Others stink like old yak milk. As for this particular ex, I dunno. Popping back into my life is nuts... We broke up for a reason. Those reasons probably still exist. However, you never know. At least when I come to a lake I dip my toe in the water before I decide to swim. He wasn't a total douche, maybe there's less algae in the water now... or maybe there's more. Only time will tell.

*I am single. I have made no solid commitment to anyone. Don't get me wrong, I'm still a serial monogamist who is deeply in love (especially with love), but I'm not seeing anyone who can stop me from dating anyone else. I am ok with it. Normally, I'm used to being in a relationship, whether it be months or years. I've been single for over a year now. I was beginning to get that weird woman itch. You know the one that says something must be wrong with you if a man doesn't want to forsake all others for you. Every chick gets that dumb ass itch at some point. Then I realized that being single gives me the opportunity to avoid getting hurt. I can take my time and have fun. Also I can do what the fuck I want. When I want. So help me sweet rotund Buddha. It's gonna take a special man to lock me down. Amen.

*I have severe insomnia. It's making me crazier than I already am. That's a terrifying thought, ain't it? With that said, I'm going to lay it down and try to catch an hour or two. I have an actual fuckton of errands to run today if I am to win this 38 day challenge. Thank you Yamahiro. I love you.

Oh yeah:

you know you're fucking jealous... Raye 6

M,
beginning the days...

It Almost Makes Sense Again...

2011-10-10T14:44:00.001-04:00

Here's the pertinent points:

*I am once again mobile. There shalt be more posting.
*I'm also quite possibly falling madly in love with a man I was in love with before... Life is so good.
*The clone is learning to navigate the city. She loves her school and is making friends. The adjustment continues.
*My boss rocks. Literally.

There's more but I'm about to inhale some frsh aire... be back...

M,
Breathing deeply...

UGH!

2011-09-26T14:11:00.000-04:00

lost my droid... have to wait for buck to replace it. had like 5 or 6 post on my phone. i hate losing things that i write. doesn't help that there were some 'private' stuff on there. good thing it's security locked so it's pretty much a rather expensive paper weight. a pox on who ever took it...

m,
mourning her loss...

p.s. i check the stats on my site often... i see you peeping at me... po thang... lmao!

Bk... They Go Hard... Pt I

2011-09-16T20:00:00.009-04:00

I'm tickity tacking from the comfort of a bar stool down the street from my house. What you guys didn't know about me is that I'm a brain surgeon. I left the house for work today without my keys, thinking that someone would be home when I returned. Famous last words. I arrived home to an empty house and had neglected to travel with my charger so: no entry, no phone and angry Mala. Nothing to do but write. Wanna read it? Here it goes:

Over the course of the last week I've had some interesting adventures.

Friday night was a clusterfuck. I had inordinate amounts of running around to do which culminated with me at an album release party wondering why. I had other things to do after and I knew it would turn into whatever the female version of a circle jerk is... The universe tends to never disappoint. I left the show on Thompson and walked over to Bowery to retrieve Raines. He was off work and accompanying me to my now exbestfriend's birthday show. The bar was called Madame Geneva's and it was packed with some of the most annoying drunken Englishmen I've ever had the misfortune to encounter. While waiting for Raines to wrap it up so that we could make our way to Williamsburg, I decided to hit the head. While in the loo, a patron decided that the alcohol was too much for his constitution. I came out of the bathroom to be greeted by a ruckus that included the stool that was holding my jacket hostage being knocked to the ground and some blondie being held in a half-assed half-nelson. Needless to say it was time to blow the scene.

Knowing that the F would screw us slowly to go the few stops it would take to get to 14th street, we decided to walk to the L. We hot-footed it there only to discover that entry to the stations were blocked. In both directions. Fucking MTA. They do it to us daily. Having traversed half of LES quite literally, we tried to catch a cab. No haps. 1:30 am found us still wandering around trying to find transportation. Raines then said that what we were doing was bordering on inane because by the time we got to the Burg everything would be long done. This distressed me because the effort we put in to get the hell out of the city was incredible. We threw in both towels and had a drink before walking over to west 4th from 14th and 1st and heading uptown.

Now I had missed my exbestfriend's bday party last year for reasons, once again, beyond my control. The result of that fiasco was him deciding to voluntarily avoid my bday party. Mature eh? So I knew missing this year would be an issue. What I didn't know was that it would end our friendship. By my choice. I tried to explain the effort and the fuck up. He wanted no parts of it and let me know this in no uncertain terms. At first I was very Nirvana: all apologies. Then I recalled that in ALL the years of us being friends he came to all of zero of my parties. I mean none. Not once did I bitch. Here he was giving me grief. I called him on it and got no response. This brought out the mal in Mala, especially when I noticed that he possessed so much shit that he had some left to pop about people being full of shit for not coming to his party. It was then that I decided to 86 that ass. If our friendship of years is based on my attendance to a show that I broke my ass to get to, then we weren't friends. Exit Mala, stage left.

Moving on, Saturday I ended up at a house party with my boy Miles somewhere deep in Bushwick. The party itself was cool until, like always, some bullshit happened. Having walked in with Miles, it was assumed that I was one of his many, many, many girls. His interest for the night was shying away and he asked me to explain our relation to her so that he could pursue her. Being the M that I am, I acquiesced. The girl's fears assuaged, the night went on without Miles making a move. So much so that the young lady revisited my side to express her disappointment. Hating the position I had been thrust unceremoniously into, I began to snap on Miles's prowess with the ladies. That didn't go over too well, which was displayed by Miles trying to manhandle me into another room to discuss my slick mouth. Now, if you've ever met me, you would know that didn't go over well. To avoid me throwing hands, I elected to break out like a rash, because frankly he had one more time to push me before I swung a haymaker, friend or no.

I step to the left, well after the witching hours hunting for a way back to my end of civilization. My phone was dead, it was late as fuckall and I was in West Bubblefuck, by way of Brooklyn. I had just, managed to convince dude at the habibi spot to charge my phone through the spinning window, when I run into Buck. Buck is adorable, but the classic epitome of a Brooklyn thug. Upon hearing why I was out at such an unfortunate hour in such attractive spandex pants, was all for returning to the party and shifting the part in Miles's hair. And trust me, if Buck couldn't accomplish that haircut, someone in his crew most assuredly would. I managed to waylay their bloodlust by providing a large can of strawberry flavored death, commonly known as Tilt, and so was Miles, and the part in his hair, saved.

Ah, the tale pauses here. I must move on to the next flex, but will continue this later...

M,
will always, ALWAYS carry her keys from now on...

Riot Acts: The Second Coming (revamped series premier)

2011-09-15T22:05:00.001-04:00

Ok. I'm about to put my personal life on display. Just like the rest of this world. Face it, we've become a planet of extreme narcissistic exhibitionists and who am I to buck the system? Many people believe that art comes from pain and I agree. If I wasn't perturbed I probably wouldn't have that much to say right now. Thankfully life provides me with enough fuckery to create fodder for blog posts out the wazoo. I'm fast running out of wazoo.

I'll start with my brother-in-law.

Dear Dickwad:

If you ever read this I want you to know the vim and vigor with which you can go fuck yourself. You are a douche. I tried to like you, honest to sweet round-bellied Buddha. Yet each and every time you managed to find a way to alienate yourself. You're a mooching, anti-social, two-faced, control freak. If it wasn't for the fact that I love my nieces I would happily have you slapped around for the sheer pleasure of seeing your spindly, emaciated ass jangled like a marionette. You have insulted, belittled, disrespected and disheartened my family once too often. I implore you to take that sorry ass apology you sent me on FACEBOOK (cuz you're not man enough to CALL to say sorry), print it out, and shove it in the deepest crevasse your ass surely contains.

*partial back story: my niece stayed with us while my sis & dickinboots were deployed. when it came time to send her home, her father couldn't bother to call to let us know what arrangements he'd made. we (mom & i) were just told to drop her off to his mom. upon their arrival at home he didn't have the decency to call/text/email that the child arrived safely & thank my mom for all the care she provided. days passed and i noticed he had posted pics on facebook so i let him know he was in error. he made it clear to me that no human would call, he just wanted to enjoy his kid blah blah blah and if i couldn't come at him better then we didn't have to talk. i let him know that everyone who travels lets people know they arrived safely and if he had enough time to post on facebook he had enough time to call. then i proceeded to never fuckin speak to him again.*

So, you snivelling bilge rat, now that your ass is in the doghouse you've painstakingly erected all by yourself over the last 6 or so years and my sis is giving it to you wholesale, you want to apologize? Too late fucker. Too late. She may forgive you but I'm not that nice. You've made me feel too awful too often. Please feel free to suck disturbingly large elephant balls and choke.

Sincerely,
This sisinlaw that woulda had your back if you weren't so busy stabbing hers...

P.S. ma-dukes thinks you're lower than ant shit as well...

Whew. That made me feel so much better that I'm not going to bother to flip about my exbestfriend's super emo-ness... at least not yet. Everybody can get it cuz I ain't playing and dude really wigged on me for some sensitive bullshit. He gets 2 middle fingers. I only wish I was born with more.

M.
fed up...

Going Old School

2011-09-07T08:52:00.005-04:00

I used to have a pretty successful blog before everyone and their respective grammas became "big time writers". I've since decided to go back to basics. I've tried all sorts of new shit and found that it doesn't work for me. Then last week, my boy of many years Kelsey, asked me to bring back my blog because it was fun. I figured, hey, what the hell, it couldn't be any worse than what was already going on. So here goes my thing...

Ever since I've returned from Antigua I've primarily been fussed (as in ridiculously frustrated). I can't seem to find my stride. My living space had been torn asunder by my mom. She tends to do that when I go away for extended periods of time. I can't seem to find the energy it takes to reclaim my space. Everytime she drops by, she adds to the general disorder and my lack of umpf isn't helping. The end result is my crib looking like it caught the bad end of a tussle between a shit-storm and a maelstrom.

My daughter is driving me up a wall and part-way across the ceiling before unceremoniously dropping me on my keister. She's bored beyond rigor because of her lack of friends in the city and being used to being surrounded by a minimum of 5 family members at any given moment. The transition isn't going swimmingly and I know not having friends is trying for her. I just pray she makes it through the first day of school. I weep for her.

My love life is non-existant. My gentleman caller and I do nothing but fight. I think he wants me to be captain kiss ass but I just don't pucker that way. I've got no less than 2 and somewhere around 4 ex's placing their bid for reinstatement. Still, they are ex's for a reason and I'm loathe to revisit my reasons for 86ing them in the first place. There's one good friend I have to back burner for fear of losing the friendship. I'd rather not venture down the road and end up losing something of more value. There's another great guy who I'm just not in sync with. Let me not forget the insanely young boy who swears I need a stripling in my life... tried that before... stunk like old meat. I'd say I'm gonna have to pass but he lives in another state and our schedules never match anyway. The one person I had the passing thought of smushing uglies with, (having long since ventured the path and considered revisiting) turned out to be the Earl of Douche which led to this conversation:
Chuli: So let me get this straight, he's got a teeny peeny, bigger tits than you, a gut and couldn't throw d*ck with a lacross stick, right?
Me: Uh, yeah... pretty much
Chuli: Do you think any of that has changed?
Me: Prolly not
Chuli: And your miffed it didn't work cuz why again?
Me: ....
She had a point. Still I end up spending a lot of time with mobile porn and my vibrator, who I have affectionately named "work" because it does a lot of it.

I've regained a few friends due to my return to social butterflyism. I have fun when I'm not stressed. People enjoy my company so I'm going back to basics. I also managed to alienate one of my best friends because she felt I was beholden to her. She didn't understand that when I first returned from Anu, I was unhappy and truly didn't want to be bothered with anyone. The only people I made immediate contact with was family & my support system while I was gone. Anyone else stumbled into my company by sheer happenstance. That wasn't good enough for her. She threw a bit of a wobbler. Goes to show she doesn't understand me at all. Alas, can't please everyone.

My new gig is a slow start but a perfect fit. My money's funnier than Katt Williams on crack but I'm doing the frugal thing so I should be fine until things ease up. School still has me face first over a barrel, no vaseline. The less said about that, the better. My health is taking the piss as I've taken to breaking out in the most egregious hives ever... all over my body... for not a fucking reason known to man. My mom's companion of 18 years died the other day. I loved that guy. My mom's putting up the good front while dealing with the vultures he called family. Once again I discovered that seeing my mom cry affects me in the most basic of ways, namely wrenching my heart.

All things considered, life is still the goodness. I'm going to Kassa Overall's mixtape release tonight. I need to alleviate the cabin fever of being trapped in the house/church/hospital dealing with death/hives/general fuckery. The party is at an old staple, Lit Lounge and it should be at least one kind of decent. I'm done here. Blogging by droid is killing my thumbs.

M.
Out...
& succumbing to the rigors of self-love

Mistake

2011-08-23T04:13:00.002-04:00

Were you to reach into my chest and tear out my heart with your bare hands it would hurt less than the mistake made...

Machine Gun Kelley

2011-08-16T19:37:00.000-04:00

You are hereby required to Lace. The Fuck. Up.

My life is so damned awesome...

M.
out...

Anu Life....

2011-08-14T15:41:00.002-04:00

Need I say more?

The Rent is Too Damn High!

2011-06-18T08:46:00.000-04:00

Poisoned Mind

2011-06-09T06:53:00.002-04:00

And the form I have ruined lay around me, scattered like my thoughts. Torn apart with loving abandon. There is no way to describe the exquisite pain, so very close to pure pleasure that races through my blood like fire. Much like Kushiel's dart. That was not a mere story but a mere truth.

The stiletto clatters to the floor. My hand once drowning in action is now forced to sleep hanging limply by my side, useless. I wade through the gore, the warm slickness comforting me and collapse helplessly to the bed.

I am sated. Full. Satiated and whole. Finally. He may not have been worth much in life but his death was priceless. I spread his skin wider than he could spread his mind. The beauty of destruction cannot be matched but I will try again tonight.

Um...

2011-06-09T06:50:00.001-04:00

Once upon a time I touted myself as a writer of fantasy. Oft-times I wrote these tales because the fantastic saved me. The hidden copses where fauns cantered and unicorns hid was my sole retreat since my every day is fraught with horror. My days are filled with the never-ending survival struggle, my nights plagued by demons that haunt the shortest of my dreams. How my judgment erred. I am no panderer of whimsy to be compared to Madelaine and Octavia. I am a speaker of truth. So hear me. So here it is.

She: Then

She knew what the night held. While in truth it repulsed her scattered morals, the voyeur in her could not resist the temptation to at least see what it was all about. When the offer was made to come along because the usual playmate had cancelled, her lip curled in derision even as she agreed to go. She was adamant to the nth degree that she would not partake in any of the impending debauchery; she was there merely to ensure his entrance into the party. A swing party. She was to attend a swing party, and her stomach turned over.

She dressed with purpose, determined to put her best foot forward as usual. The kimono-styled dress clung to her slender form well down her calves with a slit that started below the knee and ended somewhere near heaven. Her red hair, teased to the limit, hung down her back with a slightly devil-take-the-hindmost look as if this was how she awoke each day. Crammed into her clutch were her favorite tools, boy shorts to flatter her not so boyish posterior and a close fitting tank that made up for what she lacked. Powdered and rouged, she sipped Cavalier slowly while she paced to quell the tumbling in her middle as she waited for her transport. And sooner than not, they arrived.

The ride was uneventful for anyone accustomed to driving with a mad man. The banter was playful as they tried to ease her obvious tension. The very same tension that screamed past the nonchalant look on her face and seeped into her squarely set shoulders, her erect posture straining at the belt across her lap. The muscles in her neatly folded legs flexed and tightened as if at any moment she would bolt from the barreling vehicle and outrun it. She tossed her head with a seeming carelessness all the while wondering if her senses had taken leave of their home in her head. A swing party. What the fuck am I doing? she whispered below the bass. Around her they laughed, not hearing her quiet plaint.

When the little tin came around, she chose half a blue pill. A half only, considering the last time she indulged when she had seen him unexpectedly and went on to overindulge to a dangerous degree. A half only. For now.

They arrived at the nondescript hotel located somewhere South of Nowhere and made their entrance. A ludicrous amount of money changed hands when they stepped off of the elevator on the topmost floor that had been rented for the night of fornication. Having been directed down the hall, they entered the large suite where the initial mingling would take place and it did not take more than a glance to realize that they were the only attractive people there. She was immediately incensed. These were the people that her friend wanted to share her body with? They barely deserved to see the girls feet much less any other part of her. Well she knew with a solid surety that no one there would get within spitting distance. Not even if she were to fall into a raging inferno. And dance an Irish jig. With feet on fire and ass soon to catch.
No.
Fucking.
Way.

Sensing her extreme distaste, magically the little tin appeared from some secret pocket in a ridiculously oversized jacket and this time she helped herself. The least she could do was have a party in her head where only she was invited. She mixed herself a drink while she watched women the size of wildebeest mill around the rapidly disappearing finger food laden on the table. Honestly! Who in the hell brings hors doeuvres to feed whales? The ice cubes rattled in the murky liquid, reminding her that cranberry juice was not to be purchased at all-night bodegas, and resignedly she took another sip.

They gathered around the watering hole to watch porn and deride the studs and sluts as if their misshapen bodies could reproduce even half of the acts that wended their way across the screen. She snorted into her glass and murmured a demure Oh nothing, when asked what she found so amusing by men that glanced furtively at her like the last hot dog at a summer barbeque.

Then it hit. Hard.

The warm feeling swelled from her middle and spread throughout her body, clouding her mind and softening her eyes. Each nerve on her skin was at attention and felt the swirl and eddy of the manufactured breeze blowing through the air conditioned room. She shifted in her seat comfortably cat-like as that naughty space where glory began moistened and pulsed. She could feel her heart beat between her legs and race up her back. She fell into the moment.

And it was through this sex haze she peered and was truly disgusted. He was not here and what was left should be charged for reckless endangerment of the lovely. There was no outlet for the urge that reveled in the icy slickness of the glass forming wet circles on her dress soaking through to her hot thigh. No hair to pull. No face to demand release from with urgent whispers and darting tongues. Dammit.
They were all changing and she was told that she would have to leave if she didnt at least come out of her clothes. Outwardly she blanched before she complied, inwardly she mocked them. What was the sense of viewing what you cannot have? Oh ye of horrid body and even worse face. She tittered into her hand like a novice Geisha until the pleading look on her friends face drove her into the bathroom and out of her dress.

And she took her time.

One button. Two buttons. It fell from her body in a silken rush, lighting her nerves anew. Nude, for she seldom bothered with undergarments, she admired her slight form in the full length mirror attached to the bath at a rather advantageous angle. Not bad for a pixie, mother of one, she proclaimed to no one in particular (as alone as she was) and ran her hands slowly over her skin, delighting, as usual, in the sensations she was well adept at inciting alone.

Finally, although altogether too soon for the climax she sought, the incessant pounding at the door forced her to don le petites she had toted to the affair. She stretched luxuriously before slipping her feet into the 4 inch sandals and exiting, door left. They watched her as she walked out, her usual fuck you stride now lengthened into a strut of catastrophic proportions. Obviously no one had taught any of them that staring was tres gauche.

Some had forgone the change and gotten right down to business.

They pulled and pushed, grunted and groaned in a most insipid fashion, looking for all the world like Rhinos rutting in the mud. One powerful ick chased another through her fuzzy mind. Ick, ick, ick! And like a train wreck she could not help but watch as one man assisted another in holding the giant slabs some mammoth called legs apart so that he could lick her OH, NO, GOD, NO!

She backed away from the scene like Jamie Lee in Halloween smack dab into another little shop of horrors because there was no way, not a chance in hell, that between that belly and that rear anything but a needle pricking an elephant was going on. And the sounds? Good lord. The huffing and panting was deafening as if they had all recently traversed innumerable flights and were at a loss for oxygen. Spying her purse, she groped around for her phone, desperate to have some one save her from this farce they called sex.

This was not sex. She did not know many things, but sex she was keenly aware of. Sex was something intimately innate. Sex was root, branch and stem. She knew the head thrown back in abandon. She had heard her name whispered in the dark of night, straining for air. She had skittered away only to lay spent and shaking. She had stretched to her full length above as a rhythm continued below. She was the bite mark on a shoulder. She was the bed a full two feet from where it began. She was the slow thrust and the gentle acceptance driving to distraction. She was the tilt of the pelvis and the arch of the back. She had come away with a snarl on her face with wisps of hair entwined in her fingers. She was the skin beneath the nails and the sting of sweat. She sang the song of dawn and endless motion. She was the cry and the moan that gave the look of triumph. In a way, she was sex. And in the midst of all of this jostling and wrestling she did not belong HERE.

Escaping into the hallway away from the dank miasma of musk and Crisco, she drew a deep breath. Fingers caressing the buttons as if each were he lover, she dialed the only person she knew close enough to rescue her. His voice was a blessing. You have GOT to come get me man! Im rolling and surrounded by cows I swear somebody mooed! He laughed into the phone. Thats his homegirl, he expected no less. Safe with the promise of a lord-be-praised rescue, she sauntered down the hall to wait through the hellishly long minutes until her white horse, or Maxima to be exact, arrived. She knew it would not be long before the vultures flocked to the kill. And to be sure, so it was.

They came in their towels and dare it be said, baggy briefs, one after another attempting to make idle conversation. She fielded their quasi-polite banter with a stone faced looks and monosyllabic responses. They glanced at her leeringly and her stomach churned at the thought of their skin coming within striking distance of her own. One drew too close so she rose from her perch and traced a striation in the carpet before her with one Candylicious sandal-clad toe. When she licked her lips and prepared to speak they drew a collective breath. She nearly choked on not quite imagined bile before she said:

Not one of you motherfuckers better cross this line.

Fin.

Love Is

2011-06-09T06:48:00.000-04:00

Scuicide.
It will kill your soul each day.
The more you try to hide, the more it takes your life away.
Love is scuicide.
Lets all suffer here today.
Come on for the ride....
It's the best game we can play.

Meanderings

2011-06-09T06:36:00.002-04:00

This errant attraction begins to wear me thin. I know that it's just not that deep but drowning can still happen in the shallow end of the pool. Just left of meaningful is where I dwell and I've always made it my abode, though I've never been humble. It may seem that I require depth but it is not so.
Distraction is my panacea.
Keep me occupied.
Ah, I digress. Was it not an attraction that began this? Yes. It was. Let me begin the dance again. First I shall place my hands just so and plant my feet so that swaying to this rythm does not cause my bottom to make painful contact with the ground.
People would wonder what is wrong with me, but no more than that query plagues my own often sodden mind.
Understand that I do not see the things as most would.
I see fingertips and pursed lips. I walk a few steps just behind (and somewhat to the left) to catch the ease of gait. I watch the stretch and pull of muscles during work. I enjoy the rise and fall during sleep. I love heavy breathing when I'm being weak.
The simply complex things that distract me can own me.
Yeah...
So I like what I like when I like it how I like it.
Sue me.

-M
Ok, I don't know what the fuck I just wrote. It was in there and it had to come out so it did. Maybe I can use pieces of it for something else at some other time... I sure hope so because this is a hot friggin mess.

6 &

2011-05-24T16:03:00.002-04:00

My eyes flew open of their own accord. Same time every morning. So damn early that if I were home I'd still be calling it last night. Here, it's this morning. I'm staring up at the vent stuffed with tissue. It's freezing in the cell but they never turn the ac off. Keep it cold to control the germs. Not like you can open a window for fresh air, right? I turn over on my side, the rough blue dickies chafing under my arms, the height of fashion. Here it comes. Right on cue. The clang as the locks on the first teir release sounds like some kid walking down a street hitting a metal fence with a wrench. One after the other like domino doors. The ritual begins.

"Up and attem Ladies. Count. Let's go, let's go Ladies. Count." This was accompanied by a bang on the door if you didn't move fast enough. I heard the c.o. give someone's door a kick. Probably Maxie's. That broad was slower than molasses on a winter day. I didn't see what took the other chicks so long to step up and out. It wasn't like you had to get dressed for a date or nothin'. I mean damn, we did this every damn day. Every damn day for almost a year....

"Come on Ladies. Move it or it's in-cell today." I thought that was some really dumb shit to say, if you'll pardon my French. It's in-cell everyday. Every day we're trapped in these cells, so why threaten us with eating lunch here? It's not like you were gonna take us out for pizza today.

I roll down off the top bunk and look at my sleeping partner. I swear this broad can sleep through anything. Gets her more than her fair share of in-cell days. I snatch her by the back of her jumper and tug her out of the bed laughing as she flounders then falls.

"Ah come on N.Y., it's too early for your shit!"
"Get your ass up, it ain't too early for count. Attilla working today."
"Shit."

Yeah I agree. Shit. I step into my showershoes hike my ill-fitting jumper up a little so the cuffs don't drag on the floor. I hit the door just as it clangs open with Red close behind me.

"One more time Ladies. Cooooooooooooooount."

It never ceased to confuse me, them calling us ladies and caging us like animals. I step over the threshold and shuffle to the line up next to my cellys, blinking in the harshly glaring flourescent light.

They call us one by one. Last name only. Like I had so many other mornings, before I answer, I tick off another day on the internal calendar. My heart's a little lighter today. It will get a little lighter tomorrow. I've got 6 more days. 6 days and a wake-up....

J*DaVeY - Raincheck

2011-05-03T22:25:00.001-04:00

Were we truly possessed of the brilliance that we claim, many of us would have offered a raincheck many a night... Yet instead, we too, got wet.

Ah life... Maybe now we can remember how to say "next time."

M.
would rather take a raincheck...

Where Are You?

2011-04-30T18:03:00.002-04:00

Find me.
Please.
Before I get lost.
I see by the shifting that it's been way too long.

Random Acts of Roaming I

2011-04-17T15:23:00.001-04:00

Life has been... well... life.
In the mean time, I had a few moments to wander around.
In my travels I have come across the following odd n ends.
Go look at them.
Because I have good taste and so do the people I like.

Attack of the Redneck Mommy - she makes me cry and laugh. then do it all again.
Spats - puttin on the ritz caused me to love 'em.
Loopybooby Dolls - distressing yet adorable.
Poorly Dressed People - it will make you feel better about some of your bad clothes days.
Black Mirror Design - clearly i am an etsy addict
All Crafts Crochet Patterns - yes. I crochet. Don't judge me

Ok. There's a 4 year old chatter box vying with the internet for my attention.

M.
can't believe it's not butter...

Love. It.

2011-03-25T21:25:00.002-04:00

http://www.matthewgraygubler.com/
I don't have typical crushes... at least not for a girl from the bronx... then again, i've never been a typical girl...
a girl can dream... can't she?

see more Lolcats and funny pictures, yup

Venom: Season 1, Episode 1

2011-03-15T16:05:00.000-04:00

So there I was, sitting at the local speakeasy, surrounded by a wide range of questionable characters. I'd come up with a good reason for being there if I cared to lie, but I don't care. I was just there to be there. Every once in a while I stop by to see old crew and talk shit.

While I was in a deep conversation about absolutely nothing, an acquaintance of the ex-douchebag decided it would be a good idea to hit on me. I toyed with him for a short while before handing him his hat, ears and head on a plate. This didn't sit too well with him.

He proceeded to "tell me about myself. Namely that I must have something wrong with me. I must be insecure and a little crazy. I should let down my defenses because I have too many walls built up. Hmmmm.... sounded like douchebag all over again. Then I realized that these were the self-same things douche used to say to me all the time to make me feel bad about myself.

At first I was angry. I asked him who the fuck did he think he was when he didn't know me. But then I realized that I didn't have to give a fuck. Who cares what he had to say? Especially since it all clearly came from the mouth of the douche... almost verbatim. Since the douche can no longer say a word to me ever, he came up with a better way to handle it. He found someone else that was too dumb to realize that they were being used, to do his dirty work for him. A person so dumb that they wouldn't know that they were saying all the things to me that he used to say, in an attempt to break me down.

Gotta give the douche props: his g is still tight.

My final solution? I hit the nonexistent button and removed the poor vic from existence on my plane. I said him "Um, you know what you do for me?" Then I made a zero with my hand and continued, "That's what. Absolutely. Nothing. You have nothing I want, need or am remotely interested in. I don't want to be your friend. I don't need your approval. I am not remotely interested in you physically. Essentially, you're useless. You don't pay nary a bill. You don't do shit for me and you can't afford to consort with me. I'm already wasting too many words on you. Who gives a fuck what you think of me or if you like me? I certainly don't. So I suggest you take your opinion and your two cents because your sorry ass surely needs it more than I do..."

Then I turned around and he ceased to exist.

M.
not playing...

JDavey Comes To NY

2011-03-07T15:30:00.001-05:00

So.
This is now going to be my official personal website. Complete with vanity name. I'm going to change some things around but for the most part, things will stay the same.

Anyhoo, I'm promo-ing this artist because, quite frankly, I've grown to LOVE their music. I cannot begin to tell you the absolute ignorance of the back story that goes with the lead songstress. Let's suffice to say that once upon a time I managed to make a spectacular ass of myself as far as the situation went.

Hindsight is annoying in it's 20/20 do-you-see-yourself clarity . It's always painfully clear enough to show all points between idiocy and back. I'm glad I'm not the person I was then. Quite frankly I was a twit. I've changed since then. As a matter of fact, an inordinate amount of change had taken place ever since the incident with my ex-douchebag. I've grown by leaps and bounds (although I'm still rather small in physical stature).

Ok.
Enough meandering. One day I will tell the tale of me, my BIG mouth, my rotten attitude and all the things in between with Jack Davey. Until then, heed my words and drag your ass out to one of these dates. She will blow you the fuck away.

I have spoken.

M.
getting her grown on...

The "Win/Fail" Report: Volume 1, Issue 1

2011-01-04T14:38:00.000-05:00

BeamReader for blackberry: FAIL
I want a kindle. I shopped all the other ebook readers I could think of looking for an alternative. There is none. The only downside of the kindle is the lack of backlight. Considering what it would do to the battery life, I don't mind having to buy a little reading light to attach to said kindle. However, I can't afford a kindle right now. Sure, I could ask for one but considering how spoiled I already am, asking for a $200 piece of equipment to read a book on could be considered a bit much.

So I decided to find an ebook reader that could hold me over until I am able to get the aforementioned machine of book reading joy. I currently have Wattpad on my crackberry and I love it. Unfortunately it only allows uploads of text files and does not support the purchase of new books. It's more geared towards self-publishing new writers. I need a pdf viewer since the bulk of the books that I own are in pdf format. Sometimes converting them to txt causes serious format loss resulting in huge spaces etc...

There aren't many programs with pdf capabilities for blackberry. I think they might want to work on that. Documents to Go is another distinct failure with it's need to freeze up every time you so much as even think about opening the app. I finally decided on BeamReader, not only because it had decent reviews but because it offered a free trial that would save me money if it sucked. Which I'm glad I had that option because no sooner than I had downloaded BR, I removed it.

The pros? It was small, didn't take up much memory, didn't run in the background when I quit it and didn't cause any freezes. The cons? I needed a magnifying glass to read the damn pdf. When I zoomed in to make the text less of an eye-killer, I had to reorient the page so that half of the text wasn't off-screen... Which turned out to be a fruitless endeavor as I could not control the zoom so there was ALWAYS text off-screen. To make it more annoying, whenever I turned the page, it re-oriented itself automatically, forcing me to partake in trackball gymnastics every minute or so. That's no way to read a book. So I didn't.

I'll stick Wattpad for now. Sure it's more labor intensive to get what I want uploaded but it's less of a pain in the tuckus to read as a whole.

Dear Blackberry:

Please step up your ebook/pdf capabilities. Android & Iphone are whooping all up on your ass.

Thanks

Dear BeamReader:

Please get better controls in your next build because right now your document controls are the epitome of the suck.

Bye

M,
can't fully enjoy her Piers Anthony Xanth series binge...

Exhibitionist Hiding

2011-01-04T00:49:00.000-05:00

No I did not delete you as friend.
I took down my page.
I had to.
My life is not cyber. It's real.
And now it's time for most of it to belong to me.
I realized how much time and effort I was putting into a realm that had nothing to do with the awesomeness that is.
Of course I'm an exhibitionist so I'll never stop putting some of the me that is me out there... but some of me belongs to people that don't like to share.
So I won't.

So for a while I'm going to enjoy my life and do a relaunch of the public persona when the time is right.
Don't fret my pet.
I can still be found, if you really know me.

I haven't changed that much...
I still haunt my favorite bars/pubs/restaurants/speak-easies/voids
I still like to dance, laugh and joke
I'm still REELING from seeing Prince in his forever glory
I still love.
Fiercely
Especially the newest addition... Beadles....

Isn't she the most?

Ok.
I gotta go.
Cuz tomorrow I will be:
rescheduling appts
preparing for a huge portfolio meeting
retrieving the malapod from Vino
catching up with lb before she leaves me
calling my school
reading my chapters
re-negotiating my worth
building my confidence
calling my peeps
seeing my girls
loving the Bean

m,
staring at her shiny hand...

Insomnia 2011: Round 1

2011-01-03T01:29:00.002-05:00

Remembering

2010-12-29T17:00:00.001-05:00

It's about to be a new year. Usually we all start waxing poetic about turning into the new us. I've done it myself. As a matter of fact, I focused so hard on that douchebag of an ex that tended to forget how much I mattered. After some soul searching and letting go I realized: I don't really need a "new me". I like most of the me that was and is.

I looked into my own past by jumping past that idiot and remembered all the things that I enjoyed about being me. They are still there, they were just buried under some muck. I've been cleaning shop. Not just getting rid of people, but also things that I don't need. I've also started putting my life in it's proper perspective and I am once again valuing the me that matters...

2011 is gonna be pretty damned awesome.
My kid rocks and may be returning stateside sooner than later to finish school.
I'm dating. & happy.
Some are trying to ring bells, I'm content with driving by the chapel for now.
I'm back in school for my one true love.
I'm humbly employed but grateful to be able to sustain myself.
I make mistakes still but I can forgive myself now, something that kept me bogged down with the douche for a LONG ass time,
I still hang out but have some kind of rein on how I do it.
& I've rediscovered so much that I enjoy...

All things considered, life is damn good...
Now, I'm going to go see Prince.
For the third time. I. Fucking. Rock.

m,
living my life like it's golden...

Welcome to Universe6

2010-12-14T16:00:00.005-05:00

My first exposure to Raye6 and the Bubble Girls was last year at an Arte Erotica show in Madame X. To say that I wasn't expecting what I was treated to is an understatement. I sat around with 2 of my girlfriends and watched a chocolate-fine, brazen woman climb the stairs to the very small performance area, followed closely behind by confetti tossing visions that would never be mistaken for candy stripers but sure as hell were as sweet as candy. Clad in only body paint and my imagination, Raye6 opened her mouth and dispelled any thoughts that she may be a mere sexpot with little to back up her claim of talent.

Skip forward a year. We return to the scene of the crime with the Universe6 and in the time from my first view of her until this very day I have come to learn much. Raye's entire life is steeped in artistry, from the way she thinks to the people that surround her daily. That she is open about sexuality as a whole by no means allows anyone to write her off as unintelligent or a flash in the pan. To do so would be a huge mistake. However, she can, and WILL, make you sweat.

So if you haven't already begun to tire of me blathering on, I will provide you a glimpse into Universe6

Get to know her...

Loft Boys Media Group's worldly artist hailing from Brooklyn NY has released her OFFICIAL VIDEO to Universal Lover shot by MTV's Face Value ENT.

Raye 6 - Universal Lover
Purchase the single on Itunes http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/univ...

Follow Raye 6 on Twitter @UniverseOf6
Blog, Retweet, Post to your social networks!

www.raye6.net
www.raye6.com
www.psychologically6.blogspot.com
www.welcometouniverse6.tumblr

*above pictures property of m.negron for mala mag all rights reserved © *

M.
most assuredly fanning herself...

DJ Nasty

2010-12-14T15:37:00.000-05:00

The level of love and respect I have for this dj man cannot be easily measured. We go back some ways. He taught me what it is to be a dj. The timing, the count, the ear and how to blend. He showed me how he reads a crowd and avoids stupid requests such as "Um, can you play gitcha eagle on cuz is mah birthday" with dignity and aplomb. He also spun and still spins vinyl - which is nothing to laugh at in today's ipod djing innundated club fuckery.

If you don't believe me, check the mix...

Good Hair Music Mix by dj nasty

Today's LolCat. Laugh Dammit

2010-11-30T17:58:00.002-05:00

see more Lolcats and funny pictures

I Feel To Feel

2010-11-30T13:26:00.003-05:00

It's quite possibly an affliction of age... theme song: People are strange

ONE night while polishing off freshly made, spicy guacamole (one of my very favorite snacks) in an extremely crowded, surprisingly cold restaurant, something strange hit me. It started deep in the pit of my stomach and spread outwards. Up through my chest, pulsing with my heartbeat, came heat. Soon my shoulders were on fire and my fingertips felt like torches. I tried to take a sip of my drink to quench the flames and nearly dropped the glass. I excused myself from the table before my dinner companions noticed my discomfort and made my way through the masses to the restroom. It was one of the most difficult journeys I have taken in quite some time because I could barely see. The world had become red and filmy, the people enjoying their meals at their tables swam in front of me as if I were drowning in a toxic sea. Somehow I made it through without any mishap and locked the restroom door behind me with numb fingers. Then the feeling crashed over me and I was disabled. It was sweet, blind, senseless and crimson. It was caustic fury. A fury so powerful in nature that I stood and shook helplessly. I wanted to do something. Anything. And I didn't care one whit for the consequences of any action I took at that moment. With fumbling hands I turned on the faucet in the little porcelain sink and tried splashing cold water on my face. The drops seemed to boil and bubble in my cupped palms and vaporized as they touched my hot skin. Someone knocked at the door and I swung it open. The deadest voice I have heard from my lips attacked the hapless woman innocently awaiting her turn at the loo. "I am in here and I am not finished." I smiled as she backed slowly away and closed the door. The air had become stiflingly hot, searing my throat as I attempted to calm myself. I turned and caught sight of my mien in the mirror and paused. I looked like a hellion.

It scared me because at that moment I realized the truth. It still bothered me.

The best part? It was ok to feel this way because I'm human. These things happen.

And with that, the feeling was gone.

If I said before that I was numb, I didn't so much lie as attempt to bury a feeling, so deep beneath all of the others tumbling in my mind, that I believed it dead. I'm far from numb. I'm not surprised really considering the fact that my intrinsic make up is that of a highly tempestuous woman. I was built to feel... to feel more often than I am numb (although it was numbness that killed the cat, not curiosity). An adage that I heard once upon a time is one of the universal truths: You can live your life any way you wish so long as you being you hurts no one else.

I wish more people believed that.

If I told you that I was hurt, would you laugh because life affects me?

If I said that all was well, would you still go on knowing that things are wrong?

If I claimed that sometimes an explanation helps a bitter pill go down smoothly, would you explain yourself?

If I told you that the last chapter has to be written in order to finish a book, would you write it?

If I said that I would be ok no matter what, would you trust life to take care of it's own?

I don't know. Life is funny sometimes... in a not so amusing way.

In a battle, a fool stands against insurmountable odds and dies.

A coward pretends to fight as he flees.

A warrior knows when to stand and when to retreat. He would not choose a battle and forfeit a war.

Being an adult is not about age, it's about experience and heart.

I guess I am all over the place right now, tempest tossed. I know that I cannot make anyone feel or do anything they choose not to, no matter how it affects me. Still I wish that people would face their behavior and choices the same way I have faced mine (sometimes even been forced to face it). An apology goes a long way. I may not mean to affect someone adversely although I meant to do/say what I did. Sometimes simply telling someone what is going on in my mind has the ability to smooth over the rough edges when paths diverge. I don't know.

Maybe it's just me.

I am going to try to not be the kind of woman who seeks to understand because my need for closure keeps doors open that should be bolted shut right before the whole damned building is razed. It bothers me deeply that I still want to know.

It makes me feel better that this too shall pass... even if it is taking its own sweet assed time about it.

Still... the question remains for an adult to answer.

WTF!!!

I hope hell doesn't turn to ice before I find out...

- n I'm out, theme song, Everybody dance.

The Return

2010-11-15T22:02:00.001-05:00

I was dancing around my living room to Muddy Waters who was firmly stating his manhood in blues format. Laughter was peeling out of me as my family stood and stared. All of a sudden he yelled "There it is! Look now!" Then he turned me towards the mirror. So I looked, searching for what it is he saw. "What?" I asked, "I don't see anything..."

He grinned and pointed "Don't you see? The joy is back in your smile."

M.
he was right...

Muddy Waters Can Tell It

2010-11-09T20:32:00.002-05:00

Nothing like a full grown man...

Nothing.

Amen.
Shout out to the inspiration for this. It's nice to know they still make em like you...

Mala,
knows a man. a full grown man. not a boy. what you say? M... A child. N...

Karen Walker Makes Me Smile 1

2010-11-07T08:54:00.002-05:00

Grace, it's Christmas for goodness' sake! Think about the baby Jesus. Up in that tower, letting his hair down so that the three wise men could climb it, spin the dreidel, and see if there's six more weeks of winter

In the Midst of Mala

2010-11-05T15:48:00.001-04:00

So it's been a while since I've written anything. That's primarily because I've been too sick to even think straight. I've watched every Law & Order Special Criminal Victim's Intent Unit possible. I also watched totally horrible MVH1TV... So out of order.

Let me start by saying I HATE "guidos". I don't know what the fuck Jersey Shore has started but it needs to end. These people aren't even remotely ashamed. The total lack of class is unbelievable. I sincerely hope that this is all for television because the idea that there are people like this actually procreating is sickening. I can't watch that shit for more than a moment without throwing up in my soul a little... I even saw some Keeping Up. I don't really get what they're doing. On a whole I think it's stupid. However, watching Kim Kardashian get knocked around was somewhat satisfying. The girl has heart. She took her lumps even after admitting fear and being given the option to bow out. I have to respect that. She's no punk. "I want to take a dive but I'm not going to..." I'm impressed...

In douchebag news: I guess his usual safety net (read almost decade long doormat) came through for him yet again because he's back on the street spewing his usual venom. No worries though. Life goes on. That's why I won't spend much time here... He's not worth the keystrokes.

I am getting over a hellafied bout of sickness. First I had to deal with the black eye. That shit stuck around for almost a month. I actually still have some issues with it but it's pretty much gone. During the blacque i, the cough that had been hanging around decided to turn into bronchitis. Big fun. so I took the meds and did all that I thought I should to treat the bronchitis. I thought I was fine, see:

I came home from that night and my friend bronchitis decided that it would invite pnuemonia to the party. I was not invited. However they did get to hanging out pretty tough all up in my chest. I coughed, I sneezed, I cried a bit. Actually I cried a lot. The woe is me type tears....

I have to admit that it gave me time to think about everything.

I've got so much more to do. This whole shitty journey has actually brought my friends closer. It has also shown me who is real and who isn't. It has introduced me to family outside of blood. It also reintroduced me to the single life.

I go where I want, when I want, with who I want, wearing what I want. I'm free to be me. I find that I have no choice but to face other demons that I had ample time to avoid because I was too busy dealing with the bitchocity that was my ex. I have to admit that it does get lonely at times, but it's better to be happy alone than miserable with someone.

I find that a lot of guys are taking this opportunity to take a run at the fun box. I think that's kind of pathetic. To be blunt, if I wouldn't jump up & down on top of you before, I'm not going to do it now just because you think I'm tender and need a shoulder to cry on. The idea that they think the best way to help me through difficult times is to wave their ugly tallywackers at me is distressing to say the least. Ugh. Furthermore, I make the choice and if I want to sleep with someone, they know it (cue the "A-Men" chorus from the chosen). Just because I hang out with someone doesn't mean I have any interest in that charred, misshapen thing they had the audacity to wave at me because they thought I would be receptive. Um. Nah. No haps...

In the mean time, I'm not ready to enter into anything serious although I'm definitely the serial monogamous type. I see the same person until I choose not to. Weird but true. I also like being single because I don't have to make excuses for my pron collection or the huge box of batteries under my bed. Don't judge me.

Everyone says that when you stop looking, what you want finds you. Everyone might just be right... even though I have no idea who everyone is. I also know that what I want isn't always what's best. Sometimes what I need is more important. I hope the universe remembers to give me what I need this time. Not a charming douchebag who does nothing but lie and use people. I have faith though. Considering that I'm pretty gosh-darned awesome, I'm sure the future holds a lot of joy and accomplishments.

Anyway, I have to go sneeze or something equally gross. I'll catch up with y'all soon...

m.
blogging while watching bad tv is not what's up....

Cipher: Doing Us Proud On Huffington Post

2010-10-27T13:07:00.002-04:00

I didn't write this but I know these guys personally and I am very proud of the message they send...

Andy Stepanian

Social Justice Activist and cofounder of The Sparrow Project

Posted: October 12, 2010 12:29 PM

Hardcore Punk Band 'Cipher' Writes A Protest Song For This Generation

There has always been a unique space for the arts in politics. Every revolution has had its songs and behind their front lines there are drum-rolls. Every picket line has its chants; its calls, responds and harmonies. One can easily notice a distinct correlation between tumultuous political times and song. Art Spiegelman, a celebrated cartoonist, writer, and former illustrator for The New Yorker put it well when he said, "when governments go bad, art gets good."

I can remember being a little kid and watching Jim Henson's Muppet Show with my parents, when Buffalo Springfield was a musical guest. As they performed their song 'For What It's Worth' on the show, a skit played out with muppet woodland animals fleeing and hiding from hunters. Each muppet animal would scurry and hide from the hunters and when the coast cleared they would emerge from their woodland hideaways to sing along with Stephen Stills and Buffalo Springfield's chorus, "stop children what's that sound, everybody look what's going down." That song at that moment made me identify with the animals in that skit in a way that perhaps I was not mature enough to fully understand. In the days and weeks that followed I remembered humming & singing the chorus to myself. For a reason unbeknownst to me, singing that song would leave my mother looking uncomfortable. I would ask her what was wrong, she would reply, "nothing sweetie... you sure like that song huh?" I would not be until I became a teenager that I would learn the reason why my mother looked uncomfortable; 'For What It's Worth' was more than just a cute song sang by muppet animals avoiding hunters 'For What It's Worth' was a powerful protest song by about the Vietnam War.

As the United States' war in Afghanistan enters its 10th year there are chilling, unavoidable parallels that one can draw between today's era of conflict and that of Vietnam era. Today's hostility manifesting itself politically, socially, and economically is pressing on everyone. Whether you lost a child in Iraq, or are pinching pennies to buy gas to get to work, or out of work entirely, Americans are feeling that press. It's within this constriction that we see people at both their most desperate and also at their most creative. For New York hardcore punk band Cipher, their music, saturated with politics, confrontation, and calls for introspective revolution, is their activism. Cipher's musical aggression is more than an outlet for their fan's frustration; it's also a call to action. Within the lyrics of their most recent album The Joyous Collapse is a message that the over-simplistic, over-used, clichéd narratives of reactionary revolution mean nothing unless we first look within ourselves. Stripped down of the hipster fluff, left only with raw emotion, and expression (in many ways everything that music should be) The Joyous Collapse confronts our very personal roles in the apparatus of oppression, braiding hardcore punk, freeform jazz, and lyrics capturing concepts that each of us are like cogs in larger wheels of oppressive systems. Whether those systems are racism, sexism, homophobia, speciesism, militarism, or classism Cipher asks each of us to dissect ourselves and analyze how each of us contribute to larger institutions of oppression. From shedding light on the seldom talked about misogyny within the punk scene in their song 'Venom' to the much more literal storytelling of one young man's choice to join the military in the song 'Stoploss Gambit' Cipher has never shied away from dealing with difficult issues.

Moe Cipher Discusses Militarism & Making Revolution Personal from Sparrow Media on Vimeo.

For Cipher's front man Maurice Mitchell, the song 'Stoploss Gambit' was a painful challenge. Unlike other more nuanced political topics they had addressed in previous songs the young man whom the song was about, who enlisted in the military and was eventually killed in Afghanistan was a friend. 'Stoploss Gambit' follows the story of this young man, who made his choice to fight as a way of declaring his autonomy from his parents, as a way to establish himself financially and hopefully earn money for college, but instead died from a bullet to his head while tucked away in a bombed out shell of an Afghan building. This story is a painful reality for many families across America, particularly in lower income communities, rural communities, and communities of color where military recruitment is often the most aggressive. With a worsening economy, these stories will become more and more frequent. More and more people who are victims of class disparity will make desperate ill-informed decisions to fight unjust wars in a gamble to be one of the haves versus the have-nots.

"(For the) dispossessed awakened fleeting caged and wanted hope. I place my own: a burned out hollow room with the myth of options when a BULLET'S IN MY head, in my palm, a crude prescription in my arm. This prescription grants me arms. The grist of fictions grants me alms. It can't be long. Those that evangelize bury my wrist with a hail of guilt so "women, what would you say if your only son was dead." Shot in the head to save his country. Close that casket. Save the front seats for the gangly patriarchs. Make them hungry for the blood scene. Oh, it's obscene and its perfect. Twenty lashes, chained on one tree. Where we worship and wipe crocodile tears from our cheeks, in our sleep. And I whisper. And he whispers." - Cipher, 'Stoploss Gambit'

"Mother, from the beginning you shouldered my blows. Please don't reproach me as I soldier on the older I grow. A cog in the wheel, in the wheel a spoke, in the spoke a seal, in the seal a hope. They say its better to die on your feet than to live on your knees for so much silver and gold. What if you face an erect death at the bequest of inept breadth of quivering souls? Wheeze as I Cleve to your breast. Grieve as I leave you in death. Plead as I leave you in debt. Reviewing flesh sleeved tissue memories it infests won't breathe life to a still beating chest." - Cipher, 'Stoploss Gambit'

Each song on The Joyous Collapse is aimed at breaking down ones self and seeing where we as individuals directly and indirectly support oppression. Directly attacking ones own daily interactions with militarism, sexism, homophobia, and consumer culture, The Joyous Collapse forces us to ask ourselves, "where and how do I support suffering?" Each generation has its protest songs and creative expressions that are unique to their era. Vietnam evoked the genius of Bob Dylan when he wrote 'Masters of War,' the massacre of unarmed protestors at Kent State University by National Guard gunmen drove Neil Young to write 'Ohio,' and Stephen Stills while reflecting on the Vietnam war and invigorated by a riot he witnessed in front of the "Pandora's Box" nightclub in Los Angeles went home to write 'For What It's Worth.' 31 years later in 1998 Stephen Stills would join Chuck D and Flava Flav as Public Enemy sampled and excerpted Still's chorus from 'For What It's Worth' on their neo-dissident hip-hop single 'He Got Game.' Still's timeless song provided a canvass for Public Enemy to paint on. It would only be 3 years later that Chuck D would find himself sharing his canvas and his stage at club Amuzurah in Jamaica, Queens with a handful of angst-ridden teenagers with a whole new set of protest songs. Sharing the stage with Chuck D, the teens from Long Beach, Long Island, calling themselves "Cipher" blended, bent and defied the preset musical genres for a space like Amuzurah and brought refreshing, relentlessly youthful, and brutally eye-opening political content to the stage. As our times -- socially, politically, and economically -- have become increasingly more tense, Cipher's message has become even more relevant. With more people dying each day in Iraq and in our open-ended war in Afghanistan, with service members being called back for 3, 4, and at times 5 tours of duty 'Stoploss Gambit' is this generation's protest song resonating Art Spiegelman's quote "that when governments go bad, art gets good."

Cipher's The Joyous Collapse is available at Itunes, and Amazon.

You can find Cipher on Facebook, Twitter, Myspace, and Big Cartel.

Follow Andy Stepanian on Twitter: www.twitter.com/sparrowmedia

Go cop this. It will change your life. Thanks to Andy Stepanian for doing his thing

M.
becoming educated through a serious Cipher....

Well Damn

2010-10-26T11:24:00.001-04:00

Doesn't this sound familiar

• Shallow emotions
• Incapacity for real love
• Need for Constant Stimulation
• Callousness/Lack of Empathy (always "sorry" but never changes behavior)
• Poor Behavioral Controls/Impulsive Nature
• Irresponsibility/Unreliability
• Promiscuous Sexual Behavior/Infidelity
• Lack of Realistic Life Plan/Parasitic Lifestyle
• Criminal or Entrepreneurial Versatility
• Contemptuous of those who seek to understand them
• Does not perceive that anything is wrong with them
• Authoritarian
• Secretive
• Paranoid
• Only rarely in difficulty with the law, but seeks out situations where their tyrannical behavior will be tolerated, condoned, or admired
• Conventional appearance
• Goal of enslavement of their victim(s)
• Exercises despotic control over every aspect of the victim's life
• Has an emotional need to justify their crimes and therefore needs their victim's affirmation (respect, gratitude and love)
• Ultimate goal is the creation of a willing victim
• Incapable of real human attachment to another
• Unable to feel remorse or guilt
• Narcissism, grandiosity (self-importance not based on achievements)

I've stopped acting like I don't know this person... perhaps you should too.

M.
airing it all the fuck out...

P.S. : Mala/Malia... a little too close for comfort. Poor thang... I don't envy you. At all.

The M Carries On

2010-10-25T23:11:00.005-04:00

Now don't everyone jump on the pity train at once. Yes. I have been through a shit load of things that would make the most stalwart cry, yet I survive. I thrive. I move on. Life is in a constant state of flux and I refuse to wallow in the things that have brought unhappiness to me. Although I do have a few things to say to a few people...

To all supporters of the douchebag: Y'all can eat a whole bag of them thangs. Call me a "crazy bitch" until you're blue in the face but NOTHING you can possibly ever say about me will excuse his behavior. Nothing. The mere fact that you attempt to crucify me for handling things like an adult shows me the cut of your ~~cloth~~ rags. I'll be doing myself a disservice to let any of you tell me I'm wrong for putting that piece of shit in the toilet. I'm a bitch? Well so is he. Or did you forget that he pulls womens hair? Maybe you forgot that he punches women less than half his size in the face. How about you may have neglected to notice that I'm not the only woman he laid hands on. How about I get my mom to give you a call and tell you how she felt when he called her to tell her that he was going to kill her child. Her firstborn... Yeah. He's a friend to be proud of. Furthermore y'all been minding y'all business so please continue to do so. Every lie he told in front of you, every fucked up thing he did to me in your presence, nary a one of y'all had a damn thing to say so please feel free to shut the fuck up now. Oh yeah, by "them thangs" I meant a heaping serving of dirty dicks. That will be all. Thanks

To anyone who tried to use this glitch in my life to further their own agenda: don't be mad that it didn't work. I may be weak at times but I'm far from weak as a whole. Just because I went for one bag of shit doesn't mean I buy poo wholesale. You can find a rock to go kick. A large one. Barefoot. I have no use for opportunist leeches. Kiss my ever-loving ass. Twice.

To everyone who has stood by my side an offered their support: I love you. Every last one of you. There need be no more said...

It's a damn shame that people have to be concerned for my safety. It's a damn shame that I have to hear "what if he comes after you again..." It's all a damn shame. But the word is out there so God forbid, it is known. If anything goes down, you all know the truth and the impetus.

Enough about fuckery, in M Carries On news:
Duck Down 15th Anniversary

Game Rebellion

Pillow Theory

&

I would really like someone to buy me some candy corn... with speed. please submit as necessary.

M.
living her life...

Pray Now

2010-10-22T08:13:00.001-04:00

i forgive you. you can't help who you are.
i forgive you for everything.
i forgive you for all that you've done to me and put me through.
i forgive you so that i can move on and forget you.
i'm gonna pray for the women you are currently lying to with stories of your desire and care for them. i'm going to pray for your snookie/boogz/boogie/t and your baby. they're alll gonna need it.
there's a special hell for people like you. i'm gonna pray for you. i'm gonna pray that you become a better person than you are. i don't even hate you. God fills me with love. I love me. I have no room for hate. sorry for saying anything you think is mean. i was just angry. i had to let go of the anger when i realized that i don't love you so i don't have to be angry. i actually pity you. i'm sorry that the only way you can find self worth is to lie to others. i'm going to pray for everyone that knows you. then i'm going to get down on my knees and thank God for releasing me from the bondage of you. i'm blessed. i'm happy. i'm free.
goodbye.
may God forgive you.

Nice Try

2010-10-21T23:35:00.002-04:00

But I will not be held down by you or your ilk...
That one hit was a full vindication. An ill liberation.

You can't justify this.
You WERE NOT INVITED.
You WERE NOT WELCOME.
You STARTED IT.

Nobody set you up to get jumped. Nobody told you to hit not 1 but 2 women. Nobody asked you to pull out a woman's hair.
Then you still have the nerve to call my mom to threaten my life? You got your family in on the act too. Real brave.
But see, I'm not hiding anymore. It was you. And none of your "golly gee" he's-such-a-nice-guy tactics will change the truth. You have NERVE to still have my name in your mouth? I'm crazy? Really? Cuz last I know, you hit 2 women in front of a room full of people. Real manly of you. Then had the gall to stand outside beefing like you wanted come back in and finish the job...

Your threats fall upon DEAF EARS. Only sissies do this. Obviously you haven't changed much. I was right for bouncing & smart for not going back. You still have the audacity though. You don't own my life.

No. Fear.
I am not alone.
I am LOVED and VALUED...
You?
You're on some bitch shit.

so um... G'wan and go fuck yourself.
Yeah.
You.
Stay away from where you are not wanted...

Lies can't hide the truth forever. No one has to believe what they hear.. but they will believe what they see. And M? She got proof...

I will admit it all, because some people? Well they need to be exposed.

M.
Revamping...

Well

2010-07-21T01:55:00.003-04:00

Let me just say that it's a sad thing when people use the information given in trust to hurt you...
The end does not give anyone the right to spew hatred and trash someone else's life and being.
I'm gonna pray.
1 day.
87 messages received.
84 of them vile.
I eschew this... Life is greater than anything anyone says, feels or thinks about me.

M.
not ashamed of being me EVERYTHING that i am...

GRACE JONES I'M NOT PERFECT(BUT I'M PERFECT FOR YOU)

2010-06-14T16:47:00.000-04:00

I'll just get to the point....

Mala Mag

2010-05-29T12:47:00.001-04:00

One of the projects that I have been trying to accomplish for the longest is Mala Mag. I wanted to have my own online mini-magazine (mag) with all sorts of content. From articles about life, to my writing, I wanted to have a dedicated home on the internet. There are so many excuses I could give for why this has yet to happen but the bottom line is I just never got around to it.

Still some people never gave up hope. Matty has always provided hosting and Inf always secured the name. Now that I'm getting older and growing, it's time for me to dedicate myself to finishing an important project that I've started. I'm determined to make it happen this time and transfer this blog over to my site.

Today I took a Drupal refresher course that kicked my entire ass. Now I'm home filling my day with work on my the site. Since I don't have any plans until I stuff my face full of sushi later, I figured I'd make my day as productive as possible.

In the midst of me doing this you can track my movements by visiting me... on the site. There won't be any content but you'll be able to see what I'm accomplishing as time goes by. I refuse to let Mala Mag flounder this time.

Wish me luck

M.
getting her Drupal ninja on...

I'm Drooling

2010-05-28T15:27:00.002-04:00

And it's not over a guy or food.
I'm drooling over this:

I swear I'd fall in love with anyone who was brave enough to buy me this. Seriously.

m.
has a thing for posture collars...

Return of the M

2010-05-25T11:42:00.005-04:00

Ok, so here's the skinny: I do this thing where I disappear from sight for spans of time. It can't be explained easily without putting everyone else's business on front street, so I won't try to. However, no matter how often I leave, I always return. I will always try again because it's part of how I'm fashioned.

*There's amazing news to tell though. I, the perpetually un-moored, have gained employment that is essentially a career move. I have not only been given an opportunity to earn good money, but a chance to be creative and flourish. Just when I was despairing, the universe found a way. My girl Nia repeated the old adage that sometimes you have to let go of things because they're blocking your blessings. I didn't believe her until I did just that and immediately great things came my way. I'm happier than a pig in a slop trough. Word.

*On top of reconnecting with people that missed me, I'm trying to make amends with people I miss. Some people I did wrong. I mean dead wrong. I don't know how to make it right, but I'm going to try because they deserve it. Other folks I just haven't kept in contact with and it cost me so much in terms of support and sanity. It's amazing to see how many people out there actually love me, flaws and all. It makes me feel perfect in my imperfection.

Yeah.
It does.
So Nia, Mo, Matty et al: thanks for being ace coon boom goons
Inf: I hope I can find away to atone for some of the past errors
Tara: I'll call you when it isn't .40¢n per second to say hello

*I had initially planned to return to California in a few weeks but that has been put on the back burner. I can't allow this opportunity that I have been presented to pass me by. This means I miss my sister and the girls immensely. I worry about how long it's going to be before I get to see them again. I've spent most of the last 2 years with them. The lack of their presence is really becoming a void. It's not easy to be without the people you love.

*I've got Windows 7. It actually does not suck of the total ass. However, even if the software is genuine, people still get that annoying, movie interrupting, pop-up. It was driving me at least 2 different kinds of batshit. I finally found a tool that works. It's called RemoveWat22. Can the people say amen? It took me 2 days to find something that could free me from the tomassery that was W7 continually bugging me about being real. All hail to Hazar! Yep.

*What's occurring? I did a Gavin & Stacey marathon. If you've never seen this show, you probably would benefit from a swift kick in the bum. It's got to be one of the funniest sitcoms from the UK that I have EVER had the pleasure of experiencing. Each character is well acted and insanely hilarious. Gavin and Stacey themselves make me pine for the crazy kind of love. Nessa is an amalgam of a few friends of mine and I wish she was a real person because we'd have a shitload of fun. Uncle Bryn is the totality of every un-hip family member you've ever had. So much so that sometimes it's hard to believe that he is a character and I begin to believe that Rob Brydon isn't acting at all. There are moments when it's almost painful to watch his antics. I could go on and on forever but you just have to watch it yourself. The writers are brilliant. The show is only about 24 or so episodes in total and initially I was disappointed. Then I realized how much sense it made. There's only so much of a story that can be told. Sometimes great shows end up petering out ignobly because no one knew when to call it quits. Gavin & Stacey ended on the same high note it began on. Not many sitcoms can say that.
Grade?
A. Cracking! Tidy! Lush!

* Ever the woman with the not so bright ideas, I decided that I'd go on a prepared foods binge. It was a cross between being lazy and ... OK. um... it was all a result of me being to lazy to cook. So I took myself to Food Town at some unsightly hour in the morning and purchased Jack Daniel's Ribs, Country Crock mashed potatoes and Bertolli shrimp scampi.
Take a look:

Let's start with the ribs & mash.
Not bad. The ribs were actually quite tasty, although that could just be the alcoholic in me talking. They were sweet and not overly tough. My main complaint was the portion and size. There were 5 of the tiniest, ribs I've ever seen in that package. It was swimming in the JD sauce but that's not a big deal because you basically take them out of the sauce prior to eating. A few minutes in the oven an you're set. The portion was enough for me when I'm not being greedy, but be advised I'm a small woman who is easily full.
Grade?
C+
The mash was actually real potatoes (layer of water on top notwithstanding) and they tasted pretty damn good. The consistency was nice and after adding a healthy dollop of sour cream and my usual deluge of cheddar on top, I actually forgot that they were out of a tub. I'd eat it again if I were in a rush to make a meal and didn't feel like applying force to a masher myself.
Grade?
B+
Now on to the shrimp scampi...
It was runny. Drowning in sauce. It wasn't horrible but I wouldn't recommend it. The fact that it starts off frozen makes the veggies a soggy mess. The shrimp and pasta heat up well. The sauce is tasty even if there is waaaaaaaaay too much of it. The application of salt, pepper and grated Parmesan is a must. Over all, it's edible when hungry but I wouldn't run out and buy it. You're better off with a slice of pizza. Or ramen. Take your pick.
Grade?
D

So that's it for now. I have to go to the nail salon, the threading salon and the barber at some point today. Then it's off to Harlem because Ky-mani Marley will be doing a book signing or something of the sort. I'm not sure what I'm doing after that but I promise to keep it sane.

M.
reconnecting... slowly but surely

Pam - “Shut it you leak munching sheep shagger!”

WTF!!!!

2010-05-17T18:29:00.003-04:00

I know , I know. You're all like "where the hell are all your posts" and whatnot but I had to get rid of them. I was catching too much grief about the things I wrote. I guess honesty isn't everyone's best policy. I did manage to back up my old posts to a completely private blog so it's not all a loss.

The whole goal of this blog was for me to be free to be as "real" as possible (safety permitting) about my life and all things surrounding. Unfortunately a lot of people don't like the truth being told about them. I was of the opinion that one should stay far away from me if one does not want to appear online in some saucy tale or another. Turns out people aren't so wise. They stick around, only to bitch and moan because I chose to laugh at their choice of dress one fine night. So I ended up facde with one of two equally upsetting options: I could start lying or start over.

I decided to start over. This doesn't mean I'll be any less honest than I used to be. It just means that I had to take time to get rid of A FUCKTON of awful people, places and things, so that I can be truthful about my experiences as I walk through these wicked streets. Starting over wasn't as easy as one would think.
The detractors refused to absent themselves from my world, so I finally did the only thing I could sanely do (considering my moniker is Mala), I removed myself from theirs.

And so:
Shit has been a mess. I've been struggling just to remain afloat, but these things are to be expected in life. As usual, when everything starts hit the bottom, they start to rise again. This dispels the whole idea that I am a complete vagabond, proving that someone out there likes me because my existence isn't The Suck.

Wow. I've truly missed the free blog therapy I get by yammering via keyboard and starting over isn't as bad as I thought it would be... so I begin

M,
can't believe she's about to quote that fool Drake...

" I know way too many people here rite now that I didn’t know last year, who the fuck is y'all?"

Pray For Talking Horses (a poll post)

2010-01-10T00:02:00.000-05:00

as always, my disclaimer:

identifying factors have been altered to protect the innocent and the idiotic... if you think it's about you, you're more than likely wrong and probably have a guilty conscience...

Relationships are hard enough with out one half of the team gumming up the works. On this blog I have shared many of my personal horror stories along with those of people I know. Unfortunately, because people can be cruel/stupid/evil, the drama never ends.

Sandrina called me last night in tears. I heard her voice and the first words from my lips were “what did he do now?” I know that might seem a bit hasty but generally when one woman calls another woman crying, it usually involves stupidity of the male variety. As usual, I was right. It seems that Drina is convinced that her boyfriend is having a baby with someone else.

*insert sound of brakes screeching*

huh?

What the hell do you mean you think he's having a baby with someone else?

As it turns out, her boyfriend's old roommate is pregnant. That might not seem like a big deal when you don't know the back story. Drina's boyfriend had gone through a rough patch where he wasn't working and ended up losing his apartment. Since she lived at home with her parents, strict Catholics, there was no way in hell he could have stayed there. He ended up moving in with an old friend of his who he had helped in the past. Here's the problem: he used to be in a relationship with this friend and it was a woman.

sounds familiar don't it? what's with guys living with their ex's? sheesh!

I know, I know. That doesn't mean they were sexually active just because they used to date. Sure, that's plausible but if you ask me, I'd tell you that I smell bullshit. I find it very hard to believe that a man and a woman who were in a relationship can live in the same house and not fall back into each others bed. Personally I'd be wary of even spending the night at an ex's house for fear that one out of the two of us would get nostalgic and there would be a misunderstanding.

Anyway, Drina stuck it out because she, like most women, would rather settle for bullshit than be alone. I don't know how she did it. There were times that she found out he was hanging out with his roommate and his excuse was that they were friends and friends hang out *cough, cough - bullshit*. Sandrina thought it was odd that he'd never talk to her while his roommate was home. His excuse was that his roommate didn't like Drina so he was trying to avoid problems *aaaachoooo - bullshit*. Drina was actually brave enough to ask the roommate if they were messing around. The roommate denied it but went on to dislike Drina virulently. *yeah, you know what's coming - bullshit*

Anyhow, these two ~~fucktards~~ lovebirds eventually got their act together and got a place together. After all that had gone on, I thought life would finally even out for her. He's not a bad guy and as far as I knew, prior to his living “situation” and even during, he was a "good" to her and they seemed very happy together. I was a little off base with my assessment.

About a month into their domestic cohabitation, Drina notices that the roommate was calling and texting her boyfriend a whole hell of a lot. She said curiosity got the better of her one day and she looked through his phone (which, like many men involved in shady activities, he kept diligently locked and strapped to his anus). Now that sparks a whole debate about privacy that I will get to later. She saw messages from the old roommate asking her boyfriend what his address was and complaining that it has been too long for her not to know where he lives and for him not to have invited her over. Drina confronted her boyfriend and of course he blew up over the invasion of his privacy. He claimed that his old roommate knew that he and Drina lived together and that she just wanted to see the place, not come over to see him. *does anyone else smell that?* I guess that explanation didn't sit well with Drina because the other day she went through his phone again since the old roommate was still calling and texting her boyfriend. Multiple times. At all hours. Daily.

I know that what ye seek, ye shall find and what she found had her calling me in tears. Drina forwarded herself the texts messages she found between her boyfriend and his old roommate. She read them to me over the phone and I swear I felt so bad for the girl that I wanted to kick him in the sternum. The old roommate was complaining that Drina's boyfriend stood her up. His response was that he was home sick all day. The girl made mention that she got the picture of him laying in bed looking hung over, not sick and why is it he stood her up but could go out with "someone else" that night. She also mentioned being very angry that he missed a PRENATAL APPOINTMENT and to quote, he knew it was a very important appointment for “our baby.”

Yep.

OUR BABY....

Well, you know the shit did hit the fan. She confronted her boyfriend, he BLEW UP and asked Drina to move out. Even though she paid for half of the place, her name isn't on the lease (LADIES, DON'T DO THIS SHIT, GET YOUR NAME ON EVERYTHING YOU HELP PAY FOR DAMMIT). He broke up with Drina because he couldn't "be with a woman he can't trust" and he can't trust her not to invade his privacy. He also swore the baby wasn't his. His old roommate just wanted him to go to the appointment because "her baby daddy is a douchebag" and she wanted some "support".

Scream it with me now:

BULLSHIT.

I don't know about you, but I'm a mother. I NEVER ONCE asked one of my male friends, much less one with a girlfriend, to go to a PRENATAL appointment with me. If my child's father couldn't go, my mother or one of my girlfriends went with me.

Of course I asked her what his response was to the whole “our baby” statement. She said that he told her that when the girl mentioned “our baby” she meant her and the real baby daddy, not him.

DOES ANYONE ELSE FUCKING SMELL THAT?!!! Am I really all alone here yelling bullshit?

What say you?

Personally, I think that it is his baby. Drina asked him to prove that it wasn't and he told her that there was no way in the world that he could. I told her to call the girl and ask her. She told me she couldn't do that because her (ex)boyfriend (I think their status is still up in the air – yes, I'm confused by that) told her that the girl hates her and would probably say it's his baby just to piss her off.

OMG! IS ANYONE ELSE OUT THERE?!!!

Which leads me to this point:

When is it appropriate to do what you have to do to confirm suspicions? When is it ok to hear it from the horse's mouth? Personally, I believe that when all other routes have been exhausted, it's ok to ask any and everyone you possibly can.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying run up on people all willy nilly acting crazy because that might get you hurt. However, I think that it is perfectly fine to ask anyone anything as long as you do it an adult-like fashion. I would also say do it sober to avoid any mishaps. The way I see it is this: this is my life and my body. I have a right to know if the man I am in a relationship with is sleeping with someone else. It affects my sanity and could affect my health. If I ask him and he denies it yet something still doesn't seem right, I'm going to look for evidence. If I find evidence and he says I'm misconstruing it (as I've been told by a manipulative douchebag or two before), I 'm going to go ask the broad. She has a right to know that we're both being lied to. There are no guarantees in life and I'll be DAMNED if I'm going to get crotch rot behind some fool sticking his wiener in a dung-heap. My papers come up CLEAN and they're gonna stay that way by God!

Also I can't stand a liar. Yes, I know everyone lies to some degree or another but consistent lies and trickery drive me to distraction. I can't be with someone that always has some sideways story going on or some such foolishness. It's one thing to say you had one beer when you had two. It's a keg of a different color to say you're just friends with a chick and YOU'RE STICKING YOUR PENIS IN HER!!!!!

Monogamous relationships have boundaries and one of them is fidelity. Another is trust. I will go to the end of the earth to catch some one in a lie. I know that I could end up with egg on my face because they might not be lying and don't want to deal with me because of my investigatory antics. It's a risk I'm willing to take only because most of the time I'm not looking unless I'm pretty damn sure something is there to be found. To date, I've always been right.

What say you?

It may seem that I'm overly suspicious or hard on men but I've been there. Remember the posts about Doctor Liar? Well, there's one of the reasons I am the way I am (at this juncture). I used to date a guy whose lies were only outnumbered by the breaths he took each day... and even then not by much. Generally I trust a man until he gives me reason not to trust him. After going through the whole cheating episode with DL & the Bridge Troll, I promised myself that I would never just believe what someone said, especially if my inner voice was yelling “bullshit”.

My need for the truth has sometimes been misconstrued as my insanity. Unfortunately, as I mentioned in this post, people can twist things to make it seems as if they are right and the rest of the world is crazy. There are people out there who utilize the 'divide and conquer' method as their sole means of dating. I can't begin to tell you how many times I've been told that there's a rumor going around that I want to kill every woman the guy I was dating knows. That rumor was started by him (or people he had convinced of my insanity) to keep the girls that he was trying to assault with his pee-pee far away from me.

Women should not be so quick to turn their back on another woman over a piece of penis. We've all been there and we know what it's like to be cheated on and have no other way to find out the truth without asking the other woman. I admit that if a woman comes at me the wrong way, I'll probably tell her to kiss my ass and go talk to her man. On the flip side, if a woman comes to me as an adult and says “hey, I think you may be sleeping with my boyfriend/man/significant bother (and I do mean bother), is this the case?” I will gladly tell her if I am or I'm not. As a matter of fact, if I even think a woman believes I'm dating her other half, I'm quick to disabuse her of that notion. If I am dating her man and I find out before she does, trust me, his ass is going to be sore from the curb kicking he gets from me. I don't know if I would go so far as to tell her about it but I know his ass would be far the fuck out of my life.

While I realize that invasion of privacy is wrong, I still feel that at times it is warranted. That's why it happens so often. Someone that is lying to you is not going to just up and tell you the truth. They might say that they have no reason to lie or nothing to hide but if that were true, the suspicious actions wouldn't be present in the first place. I read a pretty good tweet by Elbie: If you and your partner exchanged phones for 24 hours, would you still have a relationship? In the case of me and DL, the answer was an emphatic no. He would have found nothing in my phone to indicate infidelity but I would have found a gang of crap in his. I don't regret going through his phone. It got me out of a false relationship and saved me a lot of heartache. I got to see him for who he really was.

If I hadn't looked through DL's phone, I would have never found out that he had cheated on me with the troll. This means I would have probably ended up smiling at a person who was sleeping with my boyfriend behind my back. I'm pretty sure that would have led to many jokes at my expense and him feeling like the “man” for pulling the wool over my eyes. People's misguided egos can lead them to do really foul shit. Also, I can't say for sure that in my circumstance, they were using protection. Drunk sex often leads to bad results, be it disease or otherwise and I can't take those kinds of chances with my life.

I don't know what Drina is going to do about her situation. As of right now she's looking to move back in with her parents. I'm not sure if he's gotten over her invasion of his phone or not but it seems to me that she isn't willing to continue their relationship as long as the question of the child's paternity is hanging over them. I'll keep you guys posted.

In conclusion, I've said it before so I must say it again: sometimes you have to be a whisperer and ask the horse because the jockey may just be retarded.

Until next time, trust your instincts.

awake and aware is the best way to go...

Perception is the Better Part of Stupidity

2010-01-08T14:22:00.001-05:00

identifying factors have been altered to protect the innocent and the idiotic... if you think it's about you, you're more than likely wrong and probably have a guilty conscience...

I had a long conversation with one of my close friends last night. I was under emotional attack, needed to clear my head and talk to someone that knows me well enough to tell me if I was trippin' or not. During the course of the conversation, she hipped me to the fact that people only believe what they perceive and their perception can be altered by outside influences. I know this to be a basic truth but you'd be surprised by the amount of times I forget it.

In this society we tend to pass judgment on everyone, all while claiming that we don't. I can't count how many times a celebrity has been called names because of how they are perceived by John Q. Public. How do you know Beyonce is a bitch if you've never met her and she's never done anything to you personally?

The same concept holds true in daily life. There are so many people who perceive me to be something that is somewhat in opposition to who I am. I have to admit, my devil-may-care attitude doesn't help matters any. If A & B are true, then logically and eventually, G must be true as well. However, people tend to forget that there are 4 letters in between A and G and the person giving the information kindly omitted them.

Jody gave this example:

Fred: “She sure likes to dance a lot”

Jaybee: “Yeah she does!. She likes to dance and likes to party. She's always doing that. I know you always see her shaking her groove thing...”

Fred: “Yup, I always see her having a good time.”

Jaybee: “She sure does like to have a good time, especially when I'm putting it in her butt.”

Fred: “Word?! I knew she was a party girl. Didn't know she liked butt sex, but it figures cause she's always out dancing and stuff.”

Jaybee: “I know right! Partying and dancing and taking it in the butt...”

Do you see how Jane went from being a girl who likes to dance and party to being a girl who takes it in the poop shoot? Do you know why Joe is going to believe what Jaybee says? Because A) Jane does like to dance B) Jane does like to party and if you add in the fact that Jane is very close to Jaybe, it stands to reason that Jane must like to take it in the butt. Why would Jaybee lie? Well, because Jaybee is a douchebag.

People like Jaybee make it their business to manipulate other people's perceptions of the simplest things. There are so many reasons why. Jaybee might think it makes him look like the “man” if people believe Jane lets him poke her in her posterior. Jaybee might think that Joe has designs on Jane and is trying to discredit her as a way to keep Joe from pursuing her. Jaybee might just be a douche. Plain and simple. It's best not to try to figure out why. Rather, everyone should do their best to recognize people like Jaybee.

Many things factor into how people perceive others. There's proximity, or how physically close you actually are to the person. There's intimacy, or how deeply you know the person. There's idiocy, or how stupid everyone involved is. If you only know a person in a social setting, you really have no idea what they're like. What is presented to the outside world is usually a mask worn for the masses. Many people know Mala, K, Pixie, Chick etc... Very few people know ME. Then of course alcohol and other such mind altering factors can be involved. I'm sure that everyone is amplified by at least 10 levels when anything that lowers their inhibitions comes into play. I know my voice goes up a few decibels in direct correlation to my Bacardi Limon intake. It stands to reason that people would think I'm incredibly loud (as opposed to just loud) when they encounter me after drink #2. This still doesn't mean that what you see or hear is the sum of who I am.

All of that is said to begin the journey of how people perceive me... This is going to be a pretty one-sided trip. I can't speak for the whole world, all I can do is express my experience dealing with screwed perceptions as it relates to me personally.

Mira La Mala

Many people think I'm mean. Like Scrooge mean. Like slapping babies and kicking puppies mean. People tend to think that I'm aloof, unfriendly and itching for a fight. It's also the general consensus that I'm bat-shit crazy. While some of these traits might be partially true, it's not the totality. Part of the reason that I am seen in this light is my nasty habit of saying exactly what I think and telling the truth, feelings be damned. A lot of folks also only know me in a social setting. They see me at the club, bar or some event and think that my presentation in public is who I am at all times. The baser traits that I do exhibit cause some to shy away from meeting me or getting to know me at all. I don't blame them either. I'm a piece of work, but as the name of my blog states: I'm not that bad.

Another problem with how I am perceived, besides not being intimately known and only interacting in social settings, is other people that know me telling tall tales. As I stated before, someone that knows you can be one of the biggest problems with how other people see you because of what they're saying. I've had people in my life like that. It's easy to think I'm a raging nutjob when someone that claims they love me is telling you that I am. It's hard to conceive that someone close to me would be lying. This works both ways. Why would a friend of mine fib to me about anyone? Unfortunately people do the dumbest shit for the most asinine reasons. While Brad is saying one thing to Joe, Brad is also telling me that Joe is the devil incarnate. When I finally have cause to interact with Joe, 9 times out of 10 it's gonna head straight to hell on a burning express bus. Joe and I have pre-conceived notions of each other that are fundamentally incorrect.

Brad, as I have previously explained, might be spreading the seeds of discontent because he wants to isolate one from the other. He doesn't want Joe around me and he doesn't want me around anyone at all. The best way to accomplish this goal is to put a bug in my ear that everyone is the enemy and tell Joe that I'm crazy. I can't begin to tell you how many enemies I have made in an insanely short amount of time thanks to Brad's machinations.

Hear Ye, Hear Ye

I've been told that everyone (and I do mean EVERYONE) hates me. I've been advised that people don't really want me around, they just tolerate me because of my association with other people. To quote “people only talk to you because you know me.” I kid you not. I've been told that females dislike me who don't even know me. They think I want to fight them and they heard that I was one crouton short of a salad. I've been told that no one is really my friend, they're just being nice to me so that I won't nut-out on them. I've been told that people don't want me in their establishments because I'm too much of a problem. I've been told that people are only nice to me because I'm pretty. I've told that folks are nice to me because they're sorry for me. I've been told that guys are only nice to me or talk to me at all because they want to bump uglies. If I listened to everything that I was told, I'd probably find a short pier and take a long walk because life according to Brad would be no life at all. Everyone would be the enemy and only Brad would be my friend.

Brad has a vivid imagination... not to mention he's full of enough shit to choke an elephant. Brad expects me to believe that through all my years on this earth, every single person who has come in contact with me was faking the funk when it came to enjoying my company. What's worse is: if Brad is telling me these things about other people, I fear to imagine what Brad is telling people about me. It's caused more than problems and unfortunately some of the problems it has caused has served to do nothing but bolster the bullshit being slung on both sides.

Chopped and Skewed:

Here are a few instances of what problems perception manipulation can cause:

There's this gorgeous woman who works as a cocktail waitress. I was told that she hates me because she used to sleep with Hans. While Hans doesn't claim that they were ever a couple, Hans expressed that she hates any woman he brings around because she doesn't think anyone is good enough for him. I was told that she heard about my craziness and she especially loathes me. So, of course, I put my back up. When we finally made contact I was so against the very idea of her, that I misconstrued what she said to me and holy crap, I barked on her. Like a big dog. It turned into an ugly exchange of words and resulted in this woman not liking me for real this time and with good reason.

It wasn't until much later, after much experience and talking to a few people that I realized that Hans was the root of this evil. The likelihood of him ever having slept with her? Slim to none. Of course he didn't want me to mention this factoid to anyone because then his shit talking would come out. To make a preemptive strike against possible exposure, Hans spread the news that I make shit up. All the while, you know good and well he was keeping the fires of dislike burning by constantly being in my ear.

“Yeah, I talked to her, she can't stand you.” While I believe right after the incident she may have asked him what my problem is, I find it hard to swallow that I was her favorite topic of conversation every time they talked. As a matter of fact, I think little old me was the furthest thing from her mind.

Thanks Hans...

II.

There's a woman who works in a spot I frequent. You do see the running theme here, don't you? She became friends with Hans during one of my many absences . Upon my return, we went to the spot and she made a faux pas, that while rude, did not warrant the fall-out that ensued. She crossed the lines of propriety and decorum multiple times while we were in her presence. Finally, when my tolerance reached maximum capacity, I read her the riot act. We then commenced to ignoring each other for about a year.

Of course I was told that she thinks I'm insane, she thinks I want to fight her and she too, wants Hans bad, hence another reason for her intense dislike of me. Hans also added to it that he thought she was quite sexy (although he had insulted her looks to many others on many other occasions) and if he were going to sleep with anyone it would be her. That didn't help matters any. But it was never serious enough to me to do anything about. I was quite satisfied with not having anything to say to the woman.

Time passed and one night we were sitting there and I happened to catch her eye. I got up and walked over to her and said “this is stupid... let's talk.” She then went on to apologize for her initial faux pas because she felt as if she understood how her actions could be misconstrued as rude. I apologized for being a stubborn ass and not talking to her about it in the first place. She then said “I always see you come here, you have a good time and you don't mess with anybody so I said to myself why aren't we speaking, she doesn't seem so bad.”

Take that, false perception! Take that right in your wazzoo!!! To date, we haven't become the best of friends but we are at least cordial and get along quite well when we see each other.

Those are just two examples. I've accumulated enough of these kinds of stories to fill a tome. Believe me you, it was no fun to experience. I'm incensed by how I was made out as some kind of harpy and manipulated into making it reality. I admit that some of my personality traits made this process easy. My own quirks were expertly used against me. Might I add that I'm positively livid that I let anyone else give me the assessment of a person before I did it myself. I should know well enough to trust my own judgment. To be blunt, if it looks like bullshit and it smells like bullshit, it's probably not cake...

There are so many times that I've acted the fool because I was being fed some really disjointed information. I've screamed on people I shouldn't have. I've confronted people that were only saying and doing the things they were because of the information they were being fed about me. I swear to you I've been involved in some clusterfucks that make me cringe to recall.

No wonder she thinks I want to fight her: he told her I did and when she spoke to me I told her the train to “Fuck You” is leaving and I don't want her to miss it. All because he told me she wants to run my face over with a lawnmower.

No wonder he thinks I'm crazy: he told him I was and when he spoke to me I told him get away from me before I stab him with a rusty spork. All because he told me dude was trying to get me alone to get in my skivvies, by force if necessary

No wonder she thinks I'm a stalker: I stupidly confronted her trying to get to the bottom of things. All because he told me she was stalking him and wanted to get rid of me.

No. Fucking. Wonder.

La Loca Mala

Who am I then? I'm just another chick trying to find her way through this crazy thing called life. Yes I can be mean at times. Who isn't. I don't take no shit off of anyone and I tend not to back down. I used to be a real hell-raiser but am much more mellow than I seem. A lot of incidents that I've gotten into in recent history have been caused in whole or in part by misconceptions of reality. I perceived it to be true so I acted on that erroneous perception. I fault myself for not trusting my instincts and allowing anyone else to tell me what reality was. I'm not the person to start shit but I am definitely the one to finish it. If I hear something I have a tendency to address the matter. I don't believe in keeping things hush or letting things slide. I am somewhat combative but the idea that I want to fight the world is stupid. I'm 5'1”. And a 100lbs. Who's ass am I really beating? Don't get me wrong, if pushed, I'll try. Still, I have much better things to do than fight stupid people over stupid rumors.

If you've heard that I want to fight you, you were lied to. If I wanted to fight you, it would have happened already. Trust me on that. I'm just too old to run around like I'm a teenager starting wars. Besides, my joints would kindly inform me that they have no intention of obeying the prime directive and I'd end up looking pretty foolish when I throw a punch and end up only throwing my back out.

I have a nasty habit of saying what's on my mind. I do admit that I have to work on my tact and diplomacy. They are not my forte and sometimes people are insulted by my brash statements. I'm bawdy, I cuss like a sailor, I like to have fun and I don't like idiots. If you act the fool, I probably don't want to be around you. Don't feel bad, you're not missing much. I'm not a smiley person. That may make me seem like I am unapproachable and I can't help it. While I like being social, I'm hardly ever in the mood to smile in everyone's face.

I'm good at exposing my life. Some people say I should keep more to myself and they're probably right but I tend not to give a rats ass. I expose my reality as a way of dealing with it. I'm also a firm believer in the Eminem philosophy, if I say it about myself first, you saying it loses all power. You calling me a bitch means nothing when I've already called myself that and worse.

I'm really a softy. My bark is way worse than my bite but sometimes barking comes in handy. People that know me know that I'm actually pretty cool and would tell you so. Might I add, if you're hearing something horrid about me from someone close to me, you need to question their motives. If I'm so abhorrent, what are they doing around me? My real friends don't go around telling people that I am certifiably psychotic. They might say I'm crazy in partially-truthful jest but they would never want you to believe that I should be locked away.

What kind of person would claim love but then turn around and then tell the general public “she's dangerous... she might kill you”?

It's Like That, and That's the Way It Is

Huuuuuh!

Truth is: the whole world isn't against me, no matter was said. Everyone is not my enemy. I'm not out to fight the world. If you've had conflict with me and it seemed to have come out of nowhere, trust me when I tell you, someone had their hand in the pot and was stirring their sweet ass off. I'm going to try not to be so tractable in the future. Somewhere along the line, I lost my footing on the path of me and was easily lead astray. I forgot that my perception is what matters not what someone tells me to think of others. Don't get me wrong, every error I've made wasn't the fault of someone else. I'm perfectly capable of jumping to conclusions and acting the ass all on my own. However, it would have happened a lot less often if only I'd listened to that inner voice that was screaming “that sounds like bullshit!!!”

Let me put it to you this way: like most, I too was guilty of deeming Beyonce to be a bitch when I don't even know her just because that was the general consensus. I promise to try to change that flaw. Until recently, I was a pretty good judge of character. I could tell when someone is full of horse puckey whether I continued to have them in my circle or not. Why I stopped trusting my instincts is a blog of another post.

Real Eyes

What I've written here is the truth. If you think you know the actuality of it, please use it to temper your judgment in the future. Everything is not what you hear it is. Until you experience it for yourself, don't assume that what you're being told by one party is the gospel according to Paul against the other party. A good rule of thumb is to believe none of what you hear and half of what you see until you have all the facts.

If I've offended you in the past: my bad. Unless, of course, we legitimately can't stand each other. In that case you're welcome to kiss my grits. I'm available on Tuesdays and you should get there early because the line gets long. I'm sure there's going to be some fall-out from this post. The best advice I can give is this: if you really want to know, ask the horse because the jockey just may be retarded.

And like Public Enemy said:

“Don't Believe The Hype”

m.
not trynna hear the madness...

It's A Beautiful Day

2010-01-05T12:26:00.000-05:00

Welcome to the new year and new decade. I have nothing but hope that this one will be better than the last.

Things aren't perfect but they certainly are looking up. Sometimes I get stuck in the doldrums when I don't know what step to take next. I reviewed the last decade of my life and realized that it was somewhat unbalanced. It seems that either there were more bad times than good or I have difficulty recognizing the good times when it smacked me in the gob. I guess my only resolution is to make the same one every day: move forward.

There are so many things I would like to do, such as:

solidify and strengthen my current real friendships

finish school

straighten out my finances

take better care of myself

and

remain calm in the face of stupidity

Many of these things can be accomplished anywhere, others depend on me deciding where to set up shop. I love San Diego. Really I do. I love being around my sister and the girls. I dig the weather and the laid-back pace. What I don't dig is the lack of autonomy. Like many native New Yorkers, I don't have a driver's license. I've never needed one. I can drive, albeit not that fantastically, but I've never had to. Years ago when I was with KP, we had a car and I had more opportunity to drive than I did years that followed afterwards so I tend to be a little on the punk side when on the road. It's been said I resemble a little old lady sitting on top of the steering wheel. Needless to say, I'm a die-hard train/cab/bus kinda gal and that just isn't going to cut it out here.

Not having a license stops me from doing the most basic of things, such as going to the store for bread and milk. It also hinders my social life. If you know me, you know that despite my quirks, I'm a very social person. I like to go out and be involved. Parties aren't the be all to end all either. I like fine dining (jacket required), plays, concerts, shows, movies, brunch, shopping, you name it. I don't do much of that here.

Sure I go out with my sister from time to time, but she has her own life and doesn't have the time to chauffeur me every time I need my hair cut or my eyebrows threaded, much less when I want to shake my grove thing. I could take the bus to where I need to go but I pull the lazy card on that one. The bus stop is about half a mile away and I wouldn't know where in the arse I'm going if I were to board the bus.

Needless to say, my access to other human contact is limited. I do know many people in LA even though I had to let go of my friend Daryll because he acted like a scunt to both my cousin and myself. However, I can't reasonably travel 3 hours each way just to hang out. Also my friends in LA have established their lives and I can't just expect them to drop everything to have cocktails with me. So here I am, quite on the verge of running back to where I'm safe... sort of like the "Cheers" syndrome - I want to be where everybody knows my name.

As for NY, I'm well established there but I'm over it. It's the same old song and it's beginning to sound a bit out of tune. The economy isn't exactly booming so jobs are at a minimum. There's also a larger portion of people in NYC who are so full of shit it's a wonder they don't choke on toilet paper when wiping their ass. It's sad. I don't miss the weather or the scramble but I do miss being able to take care of my business and go where I please.

I don't know which city is going to win the battle for residence. I figured that in the coming days I'd do some research and see what can be accomplished in each city and the ease of action. Once I've gotten it all plotted out I'm going to make some serious decisions. I do know one thing: nothing is going to get done until I establish a permanent home-base.

But Mala, you said it was a beautiful day, why?

Because I was given the blessing of waking up every day to figure it all out.

I've been in contact with some friends from grade school etc... and was amazed at all of the things they had accomplished. Then I started getting down on myself to the tune of "you've wasted so much time" and other such depressing melodies. Then I remembered that I'm me. I've taken a different road from others. My path led me elsewhere. There will always be people who seem to be doing better or worse. What I always have to keep at the forefront of my mind is the fact that they are living their life and I, my own. I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be until it's time for me to move on and that movement can only be accomplished by me.

To sit and worry about all that I have not done will only serve to steal time away from the things I could be doing. So I'm going to stand and move. Nothing is perfect but life is good.

Anyway, I'm kicking around the idea of marketing myself as a full-time virtual admin. I've done it for a few people and it's both lucrative and fun. Being a virtual admin makes use of my ability to get things done quickly and efficiently as well as my need for order. Trust me, I get 'er done. What do you guys think of the idea? I'm going to spend the next few days writing up a complete description of what a virtual admin does, that way I can get more in depth feedback then, really get the ball rolling.

In the mean and between time, I'm gonna praise the lord and keep the faith. Hope y'all do the same. And to prove I'm not down in the dumpies, here's a pic of my recent revelry at Kish & Nassor's. I was heading in the refrigerator to get some happy to go with my new year!

plotting a sustainable course of action...

p.s. some fool done went and pissed elbie off. i'm jumping on the bandwagon cuz she's a brand new inspiration among many (tara, jd, mo, jody, matty, etc...)

eLbieinc[dot]com *taps mic* tweetieboos can u ask @TyFyffeTv why he stole 5 THOUSAND dollars from me? or maybe HE can tell us.. [i'll wait again] RE-TWEET!!!

formspring.me

2010-01-04T06:05:00.000-05:00

If you could go on vacation for the next month with an unlimited budget, where would you go?

africa

Ask me anything

Zing? Pow? Take That?

2009-12-29T07:59:00.000-05:00

THROWBACK...

sometimes 1 is all you need

Even I need to learn when to shut the hell up... Seriously.

Ribbing. Many people partake in this particular pastime. For the uninitiated, by ribbing, I mean the practice of going back and forth verbally with someone in a what is meant to be joking manner. Personally I don't think people should rib each other unless they have skin tougher than Godzilla. I believe words arranged properly can be hilarious and it's all fun an games until someone takes one and stabs you with it...

So there I was trading verbal jabs with that stupid smile on my face that most people get when they think they're being so very clever. "Oh yeah? That's why you fill in abject stupidity here...". There went a stinger flying, with me laughing like a dolt, only to be returned with equal velocity. I guess if I had noticed how seriously my target was taking the hits I would have stopped throwing. Just because my vocabulary is robust doesn't mean I have the good sense God gave a rock. I erroneously believed that my jokes, being mild and about the usual topics, weren't being taken seriously. But they were

I forgot that sometimes people get tired of hearing the same load over and over again. Eventually they're going to reach their capacity and kindly tell you exactly what bank you can deposit your humor in. I also forgot my own mantra "every skin-teeth ain't a grin." The fact that I was smiling and laughing while trading insults, no matter how poncy and mincing they were, didn't mean they would be taken in the good-natured way they were meant. The grain of truth in what I was dishing out meant that all the ripostes would be delivered in the same fashion.

Only the grains I received in return grew larger until one of them was big enough to feed a few million people. Some words were haphazardly fashioned into nothing that resembled stinger, but rather a spear and was launched with deadly accuracy. I didn't see it coming but when it hit, it buried itself with enough force to knock the wind out of my overinflated ego

I would have had to have been nerve dead not to feel it. The room went dim for a minute and all I heard was "Zing. Pow. Now. Take that." Another person in the room said "Damn, y'all play too rough," to me and I looked up from the gaping hole in my smart-ass with the you-don't-say look on my face. Really? I'm getting reprimanded when I'm not the one chucking spears? Really?

Then I started to laugh. It was all I could do. Because it was, to coin a well known French term, fucking hilarious. Not very like "me" is it? Please understand something I have only recently discovered: "me" is a lot of things that I wasn't privy to the knowledge that "me" contains. Generally something like this would escalate. I'm a nasty piece of work and am not above scraping the bottom of the barrel and going in on my opponent. Nothing is sacred and my mouth has been known to lead a mild disagreement down the path to destruction resulting in blows being thrown. Yes, dear readers, I have been known to get ribald. Nothing in the joust with the current opponent was worth that.

So I continued to titter wildly and thankfully it wasn't my maniacal this-is-about-to-get-ugly laugh. The match ended leaving all sorts of tension in the air and me pretty banged up. Sometimes you gotta know when not to fight back.

I started to think about what had transpired and I learned two very important things. The first is that even fruits that are usually sweet can turn out to be sour. Maybe I'm going the wrong way with that. Let me try this again. I have seen bitter words from this person before but never had them served to me. This lead me to believe that I was exempt. I was so wrong. People who hate to admit defeat and are combative by nature will go on the attack along with the defensive. I also need to understand that a person who always thinks they are right, even about the most trivial of things, will fight to the bitter end. I saw a person slash at me like we were two alley cats holding one half of a mouse. It was the furthest thing from pretty.

I also learned that my mantra is still true. Every skin teeth ain't a grin. The fact that it's people you love smiling at you doesn't mean a speck of dust to a mountain. The people you love can think as low of you as strangers in the street do. Being reminded of that fact can be hard. It's sort of like getting punched in the face during a tickle war. You don't see it coming. It's a good thing I'm used to getting hit on the blind side. I might not see it coming but I'm not surprised when it does. After all, the blind side is a pretty good place to punch.

Anyway, if I wasn't such a jerk, I might have remembered this person's personality. They're human and allowed to be as unreasonable as I am at times. If I was more aware, I might have noticed their intensity building. It's a shame, because now I'm going to have to remove myself from their presence. I'm not who I was and I can't be around people who think little of me. That sort of thing is bad for my soul.

I'm beginning to understand that in life someone has got to be on your side. It's called support. On those days when you feel your worst, you need to have someone around to tell you "buck up little buckaroo" and that's just not going to happen with someone who doesn't think your worth the space you occupy. People that hide what they really think of you can affect your energy most virulently. By the time you realize they think your lower than ant balls, you're already too beat down to get up.

I need to be around positive people. Like my friend Matty. No matter what's going on, he's always got something good to say. It doesn't matter to him what happened yesterday because he's always encouraging movement today and hoping for tomorrow. Or my friend Gesi who can't help but look on the bright side. She's the type to remind everyone that this too, shall pass, when things seem most bleak. These traits may not seem like much to the casual observer but it means the world to me since my life isn't the cake-walk I want it to be.

Ok, well, that's all folks. No point in beating a dead horse unless you just like that sort of thing. While I'm learning when to keep my big gob shut, take this last discovery with you: they lied about that sticks and stones shit...

m.
licking her wounds...

Monday, Monday....

2009-12-28T08:59:00.000-05:00

I awoke from a sound sleep with the need to express myself That's how it happens . I don't know about everyone else but for me, an idea drops by for tea and then refuses to leave without dinner and breakfast. I don't sit down to free write with an outline of things I want to say. I generally wander around my brain, picking up odd thoughts and allowing them to scamper about in a way that could be considered semi-palatable if only I didn't see fit to curse like Davy Jones own.

Today's rant? The internet is becoming an artistic cesspool for the creatively-stunted absurd...

Visual artists win the day although John Q. Public now has the attention span of a gnat. We navigate the web lickety split while complaining if a site takes more than a nanosecond to load. It's sad. There was a time when I had to wait for gratification. Now You've got about 2 seconds to impress me so show me your tits and make 'em snazzy.

Tits aside, I am often left speechless when viewing photographs or video snippets. There is beauty to behold that is readily accessible to those that have paid their electric bill and isp fees. Personally, I tend not to look at paintings and such online because they're not paintings. They are pictures of paintings. Not many people understand the difference so let me put it simply: it's only a painting when you have to physically go and look at it. This holds true for all other mediums such as sculpture, performance art or other such must-be-experienced-live installments.

Musicians and singers suffer a quite a bit as well. Gone are the good ol' days. Once upon a time I would have given a body part to go to a show or concert. release dates were like wet dreams with days spent in anticipation because dammit, Stetsasonic was dropping an album!!!! Yes. An album. Music that was tangible. You could pick it up and run your fingers over the grooves. Now music is something i don't really know how to describe. It's a ghost made of 0's and 1's. All virtual, very little reality.

Complaints notwithstanding, some of what I hear online still has that thing that elates. For those that have the it factor and can still move you, their music can now molest the eardrums of the masses... that is if they can get listeners away from people that are the definition of "the suck" long enough to pleasure them. The internet has provided a means for caterwaulers and banshees alike, to assault everyone and call it music. You don't even have to have a marketing team to go with your lack of talent, all you need is a phone with a camera and a usb cord. Appalling would describe this phenomenon succinctly. I will not begin to tell you about (for the tale would never end) the amount of trash my best friend sends me because she thinks the faces I make when I hear a load of auditory shit is funny.

Then there's my personal favorite: Writers.

These days anyone with a keyboard and a hard-on claims they write. There are blogs so filled with idiocy and bad assemblage that my eyes bleed to read them. Gone are the days of the well crafted sentence. Now it's about shock value, net-bonics and presumption. Pardon my vulgarity but, who the fuck are these people? Why is it everyone with fingers calls themselves writers? Why Lord, why?

Don't get me wrong, I'm not at all implying that one must be scholarly to express one's self through the use of written word but for the sake of all that's still reasonably holy, please learn the basics. Such as subject - verb agreement and punctuation. Nothing is more distressing that reading already bad ideas, executed poorly. It's depressing. I remember when blogging began and only the few, the brave and the foolhardy ventured to write a blog because they knew that they would be taken to task if they were found lacking. In those times, people still actually READ and knew the difference between a page filled with refuse and a story well told.

It's beyond disheartening..

Oh internet, I don't know whether to love you or curse you so I'll settle for doing both.

Here's something random that I need to throw in, I'd like you to tell me something: are poets the only writers left?

Let me explain the scenario. I meet someone. They ask what I do. I respond in truth, "nothing, as often as I can." They laugh and repeat the question along with the word like thrown in for flavor. I respond that I like to write. They invariably follow up with "what do you write, poetry?"

Really?

Is that what the world has come to? All writers write poetry? Is there no other genre? Let's see, I've run through dis-tress and dis-hearten, so what are my options? Ah: Dis-Gusted. Yet here I am. Why? Because this is the global village and this is how we socialize. There was a time not long ago that if you wanted to know how a friend was doing, you had to get off your duff and go see them physically. Sins were committed behind closed doors and repented before anyone was the wiser Scandals were actually scandals because people like me were the exception, not the rule. Now you log on to www.theirlifehere.com and peruse their journey at will.

For a lot of people that know me, this is the best way to find out what I'm doing without having to wait your turn behind REAL LIFE. It can also be fun because like many others, I air my lightly soiled laundry.

I came to realize that I am not unique in experience. Everything that has happened to me thus far has happened to countless others throughout time. What makes me special is what makes them special, which is the mere fact that no two people are the same. So what if I dated a tool? I'm not the first, and I won't be the last. If exposing it for others to gawk at helps me quiet the noise in my noggin, that's what will be done.

I say lightly soiled because there is no such thing as a scandal any longer. Everyone's darkness is exposed under the harsh light of human opinion. Men no longer philander across town quietly. They text, tweet, email and blog their infidelity as if ease of exposure gives them free reign. Women don't have the decency to be harlots in badly lit, smoky rooms. They parade their debauchery for anyone with the time and desire to see them form the fool and I'm NOT talking about the ones who make a living being a slattern. Then again, am I?

So those are my complaints and thoughts. As much as I would like to turn away from the internet and self-centered parading, I am no different from many. I find my voice yelling "read me, see me, give me attention, pander to my vanity, empathize with my selfishness" along with most others on the internet. I may differentiate myself into a category of stuck up “purists” only in the sense that I wrote long before the advent of the web log. I wrote when stories were only told if pen was applied diligently to paper. I have long invited others to look at my life, if only to criticize. The internet just makes playing fast and loose with my ego much easier.

Ah. the reason for an outline becomes apparent as I have no way to tie this up. So I will leave this unpolished and move on to some other stimulus.

writing something else now... OFFLINE...

p.s. I did mention this blog was a way to pander to my vanity, right? Well here we go:

Today's LoLCat & Happy Holy Daze

2009-12-25T19:20:00.000-05:00

see more Lolcats and funny pictures

Family. Joy. Funky gifts.
Yep.

m.
being merry n whatnot...

Bits & Pieces: A Mega Post

2009-12-13T12:24:00.000-05:00

Wow. I don't know where to start but I suggest you get yourself a tasty beverage and a snack before settling in to read because this one is gonna be a doozy. it's hella long and the pics don't kick in for a good long while.

In The Beginning

I'm wide awake right now and trust me I don't want to be... My mind is all over the place because it's been a rather interesting week. I think I'll just write, in no particular order, and see where it goes.

Come On Now...

I got up to use the bathroom around my usual time and some brain surgeon stole the toilet paper. We were out of baby wipes in that bathroom so I had to sit and air dry until I could go downstairs to the bathroom with wipes. Sheesh. You mean to tell me these folks are that damn lazy that they couldn't walk downstairs for a new roll? Gah! Obviously if it was taken, that means the person wasn't actually using the toilet, they were just stealing the paper because if they were using the loo, they would have wiped and left the damned roll there for the next customer.

Yesterday as I was ~~obsessively~~ organizing the linen closet and I heard a knock on the door. I peep out and it's the neighbor lady. Turns out our garage door had been left open by "someone" for HOURS... while I was alone in the house with the girls and the connecting door to the house was UNLOCKED... Look here, I'm from NYC where you get robbed and worse behind shit like that. I understand that people forget things at times when they're distracted but the safety of your home should be as second nature as breathing.

Randomage...

I was just perusing a friend's website and they had a blog roll which pretty much consisted of a thumbnail, the person's name as well as a succinct bio (i.e. artist, dj, singer etc...). I was a bit confused by one description which was lifestyle influencer. What exactly is that and how much does it pay? How, exactly, does one practice the art of being a lifestyle influencer. According to my simple mind, everyone on earth is a lifestyle influencer to some degree or another, so what makes this gentleman so special. Where do I sign up? I'm sure I influence a lifestyle or two with my antics and if people are getting paid for breathing, I want in. In the spirit of giving one's self a title, I have decided to promote myself as a Reality Monger. I'm good for peddling that real shit. Yup. All day, every day.

Speaking of Mumbling "Bullshit!"...

I wrote briefly about my trip to LA a few weeks ago and it turns out some crappery has taken place behind that whole episode. While I was there I hung out with family and a few friends from back home. My cousin, who shall remain nameless due to my promise to stop putting some folks on front street, was one of the people I chilled with. She's single, fun, pretty and basically a good person. She used to date one of our friends waaaaay back in the day. We hung out with the aforementioned friend that weekend.

Apparently they rekindled the physical aspect of their old time relationship during my visit. I sort of knew it was going down but who am I to judge what a grown woman does with her cooter? She's single and as far as I heard, he's pretty much single. The pretty much comes in because he's sort of "talking" to his ex but their not bumping uglies with the girl because of conflicting schedules (he's a workoholic) and their on again, off again status. We all saw him stepping to the side to call the girl and I brought it to my cousin's attention that sleeping with him might not be a good idea since he has something, however partial it may be, in the background. I thought I made sense...

My cousin said she didn't care because she wasn't looking to hook back up with him permanently. She told me that she hadn't gotten "any" in quite some time and was just looking to have some fun. I still thought it was a bad idea. Rekindling of any kind is always a bad idea unless the two people involved are very clear about where they are going with it. And I was right. She was thinking that they'd just be friends and play it by ear. He wasn't thinking.

She called me recently to plan out our next weekend jaunt to LA. Did I mention she lives in Pasedena? No? Well she lives in Pasedena. A few of my friends from NY are heading out this way and I also wanna hook up with my AfroPunk fam out here (hey Rosie!!!!). Anyway, I made the mistake of asking her what was up with our boy and did she let him know we were coming back out that way. Her response was straight to the point: Fuck That N*gg*!!!

Whoa.

Where did that come from?

Turns out that after we all returned home, she contacted him and after telling her he'd call her back, she never heard from him again. He wouldn't return her calls or texts. I asked her if they'd had any harsh words since we all parted ways and as I expected, she said no. Here's the sticker: remember when I said old friends were acting funny style? I was talking about THE SAME DUDE! My deal was that he had offered me a chance to make some money doing some freelance flyer design for a shop that he works at part time. He promised to send me the information I needed so that I could create a sample, send it back to him and he could shop it to his boss. I was really looking forward to the opportunity because I'm not exactly rolling in dough and it is the holiday season and I have gifts to buy.

I contacted him soon after I left LA to find out what was going on with the stock images he was to send me and after telling me he'd get back to me with the files asap, I never heard from him again either! He wouldn't return my calls or texts. Now if you know me, you know after a while I suggested that he go fuck himself with a rather large dong.

WTF? I initially believed that something went wrong on the business end of things. I figured that he told his boss about what he had planned for the store sale flyer and his boss 86'd the idea. If that was the case, maybe my boy is too much of a fassy to just give it to me straight. He'd rather avoid me than let me know that the opportunity for me to make some money didn't work out because he doesn't want to let me down. Now I'm of the mind that he's avoiding me because he porked my cousin, doesn't want to be bothered with her and is avoiding both of us in hopes of dodging the riot act that he so richly deserves.

Ha.

Dude:

Karma is one fine bitch and what goes around is gonna bite a large chunk out of your sorry ass when it comes back around. You've known my cousin longer than you've known me and you've known me almost 14 years. No matter what the reason, whether it be the job falling through or not wanting to be involved with cuzo, you should have given a heads up. Friendship as well as common decency dictates that you at least be man enough to let people know what's what. So um, eat a hefty bag of dicks. Jerk.

Food Doth Comfort...

The other night we had Kish & James over for snacks and drinks. James brought over a bottle of Patron. I must say that although he purchased the most expensive Patron they make, my body still insists that tequila is not for me. My body also reminded me that I should quit playing with it and it did so by giving me a headache the next day. You know the one, the kind that sits behind one eye and kicks your brain for a few hours while laughing at your feeble attempts to placate it with asprin.... Yeah. That one.

I made fried chicken and macky cheeese. I love that stuff. I usually get fresh chicken wings, not those frozen drummettes. Then I clean my chicken with lime/lemon and vinegar. I add herbs & spices to give it a kick and let it sit until cook time. My batter secret is this stuff:

I've tried using regular old flour and it just doesn't fry up right. This stuff is 2 miles past the BOMB. The chicken comes out crispy. I also add panko (Japanese bread crumbs) if I want my chicken to be on the extra crispy side. My sister also introduced me to the joy that is the Fry Daddy. Holy shit. What rock have I been hiding under that I didn't know about these? Talk about convenient? Perfect temperature control, even oil heating and the basket allows you to pre-drain the food before tossing them on a paper-towel lined plate to soak up the oil. Lord. Yes. Amen.

For the macky cheese I used sharp and mild cheddar. Usually I use mild and medium but without the sharp, the taste is a little bland. Error? Corrected. I decided to make it with mini farfalle pasta and sautéed some fresh shallots in butter before adding it to the milk and egg I use to bind the macky cheese. I then sprinkled paprika and some of my parsley Parmesan breadcrumb mix that I usually use for my salmon bake on top. Let me just say that the only reason there were any leftovers is because I made so much damn food. Trust me, it was all gone by last night.

I love comfort food.

Last night it was burgers... oh boy. I had it with pre-made onion rings which were pretty tasty having been fried in the same oil that I used for the chicken the night before. There's a lot to be said for food fried in chicken oil. Yes lawd and amen.

Check the process:

I seasoned my patty with Montreal and Kansas city steak seasoning.

Then I started adding stuff. I topped the burger with fresh diced shallots and melted mozzarella over the top of the shallots. Yum! On the bottom bun I layered a few fresh basil leaves then added some bacon, lettuce and tomato on top. The only thing I could do after eating was sit there in a daze.

And

Yes.

I'm gaining weight again. Yay!!!!

MySpace Oddity

I forgot what a social networking junkie I used to be. As of right now, I troll facebook and update twitter pretty regularly. Back in 2000? I was a BEAST. I was on, that I can remember), Friendster, BlackPlanet, Migente, Aol and Hi5. It was a damn shame. Most of those accounts have long since been cancelled due to inactivity. Some sites I haven't logged on to in over 5 years. Myspace was pretty much my mainstay until I got really hooked on Facebook. I guess I like Facebook because it's not a psuedo-reality.

Most people on FaceBook are not creating alternate reality. Although a lot of people that know me from way back don't call me Mala, I'm still exactly who I've always been (give or take a few cuss words). I've found friends from junior high on FaceBook. I also like the fact that Facebook doesn't allow people to do insanely garish and resource consuming things to their page. Nothing worse than navigating to some hooker's page and "let me smell your d*ck" starts playing at top volume while a slide show of them in neon thongs starts loading. Gah!

Anyway, I wanted to go back to my old MySpace page to collect the pictures that I have in my account and I forgot my damned password. What's worse is the only way to retrieve it is to send it to email. Problem is I haven't used that email address since 2003... It's long since been deactivated. MySpace has a solution for people like me. It's called a "salute". Basically you write your name on a piece of paper and send it to them. As long as you have pics on your page, they match your face to your pics and issue you new log on information to your alternate email address. Here's my salute:

I doctored it up because I looked a hot ass mess... sue me for being vain.

I also came across some old photos I had on Friendster. Some outfits I had on I'd rather forget ever existed but I did find two that reminded me of the good old days.

One was of me and muMs back when he was in NYC and not being so anti social. The other is of me at my 30th birthday party. I think I still pretty much look exactly the same. Black don't crack, as they say and I noticed that most of my friends look more mature, not older. They say your 30's are the new 20's. That's fucked up because that means people in their 20's should not be allowed outside without a fucking chaperone. Word.

You can't tell me SHIT!!!

Elves Can Bite Me...

Shopping during the holidays can be a pain in the ass. I haven't gotten around to doing a lot of shopping yet because of budgeting issues and my intense hatred of being surrounded by people that are fucking idiots. Ever been in the mall with people who are willing to rip your arm off over a scarf? I'm sure you have but my natural response is to kick shins. I don't want the fucking scarf that badly and I take offense to being shoved out of the way for some paltry item made of fake cashmere. My hatred of idiots is compounded by my intense dislike of crowds. It's not a good combination.

I tend to try to shop while everyone is work or utilize the internet and ship to store options. While this normally works, sometimes you can really get fucking screwed. Like the grand fucking I got from E.L.F. cosmetics. I still feel the grease they used to pork me.

For those of you that don't know, E.L.F. is a budget cosmetics company that retails from $1 - $25. As a lower end cosmetics company, their products are pretty good. I have no complaints about their implements, brushes, eyeshadows or lip products. I've never used their foundations or blushes so I can't speak on those but I like using all of their other products. They also always have great coupons and promotions that cut down their already rock bottom prices. What I don't like is their online shopping. These people are the fucking worst.

I placed an order on a Monday for some items that I planned to give as a gift. By that Friday there was still no word on my order. The website said it was still processing. So of course I got miffed. I called them to complain and got no one. The recording said it was after business hours, which was fine by me since it was the weekend, however it did mention that the company was closed for the Thanksgiving holiday which had passed over a week before. What kind of company forgets to change their voicemail greeting? I got my complain on, by both mail and voice-messages.

By the following Monday, a wonderful lady from customer service called me back. She let me know that order processing (finding the shit in your order and putting it in a fucking package) takes longer during the holidays. Also she let me know that my order was pretty much put together and would be shipped the next day. To make up for my inconvenience, she upgraded my shipping to 3 day select which meant I would receive my order on Friday (the one that just passed). I wrote another letter to the company praising Anya (the cs rep) and her excellent customer service. I was pacified, that is until I got my package on Friday.

Let me start by saying the envelope arrived half open, sporting a band of clear tape and footprints. What the fuck was FedEx doing, playing football with my shit? The top of the envelope that was torn halfway open and then folded over and taped down. Obviously someone from FedEx had been in my order before I could get it. Fuckers. So I open the package the rest of the way and what do I find? NOT ONE FUCKING ITEM I ORDERED. No. Bullshit. I ordered 13 items all relating to eyes. You know what I got? I got a french manicure kit.

I understand that I got half off my order. I understand that my order was less than $15. That's not the FUCKING POINT. The point is, it's my money. I ordered a product. They accepted my money but DID NOT DELIVER ANYTHING THEY PROMISED.

Fuck.

and

Double Fuck!

I went FUCKING BALLISTIC!! So I calls these fuckers, before 6pm Eastern and spend 15 minutes on hold... only to hear a recording that says it's after business hours and no one is there to take my call. Why yes, a bitch did flip at this point. I was practically yelling into the phone at this point. I then called the cs manager that had written me after my glowing praise of her rep Anya. How did I have her number, you ask? It was the signature on the reply email. I think I left around 4 messages total and not one of them was below scream level. I then followed it up with scathing emails along the same vein.

E.L.F. has one saving grace: their customer service reps and managers bend over backwards to correct the wrongs of the other idiots in the company that can't help but take forever to process an order and even then can't get it right. To make up for this clusterfuck, the cs manager reshipped my order with 2 day service and gave me a refund. We'll see how that works out by Tuesday.

And yes, FedEx caught a piece too... I have a claim with them and my shit BETTER NOT SHOW UP HALF-OPEN AND RE-TAPED or they are bang in the shitter...

Fish Scales...

If you're a hustler, you pretty much know what fish scale is for. I can tell you one thing: it's not for eating. Ever get a popcorn shell piece suction-stuck to the roof of your mouth? Well fish scales do the same thing. Often when you buy fresh fish you have it cleaned before you take it home. I can gut and clean a fish but I don't enjoy doing it. If you're a true wuss, you can have the fish head and tail removed. Personally I believe that's a tragedy.

Little do people realize, they weigh the fish prior to removing the head and tail. You pay the price for the whole fish, not the lesser weight of the cleaned fish. Also, said head and tail is usual resold as parts for stock. Waste not, want not is the motto of the fish market if not the consumer. You can also have your fish de-boned and cut into nice little fillets with the skin left on or removed. What you generally don't get, unless you like smelly, hard work, is fish with the scales left on. Oh sure, there might be a rouge scale or two hanging on so it's always good to run a knife over a fish if the skin is on (especially around hard to reach places like under the fins and around the gill). What you NEVER (to my knowledge and years on earth) get is a fish fillet , skin on, covered in fucking scales.

If this held true, tell me why I ended up like this:

Yes. That is a picture of my pretty, french-manicured hand holding a knife over a cutting board covered in fish scales... and yon is a picture of the offending fish that I had to take out to the back yard to scale so that I wouldn't end up with the kitchen smelling like the underside of a wharf.

What's the big deal, you ask? Let me break it down for you: that was a WILD SALMON FILLET... PURCHASED IN THE SEAFOOD SECTION OF THE SUPERMARKET. It wasn't supposed to be covered in FUCKING SCALES... Bet you didn't know that trying to scale cut fish results in the flesh being destroyed because it's being rubbed against whatever surface you're cleaning it on? Yep. So the surface of my $13 wild salmon fillet looked like some one ran it over a cheese grater by the time I was done.

I still cooked it and it tasted pretty good but I'm still angry. It was a 20 minutes of drudgery, it wore me out, made my arms hurt and I wouldn't be surprised if someone told me I smelled like Vanessa Del Rio's dirty drawers afterwards... Sheesh. I generally don't buy my fish in a supermarket as a rule but we haven't been able to locate one as of yet so I had no choice. After this experience, you can rest assured it will never happen again. Word.

So yeah, Albertson's can blow me... like for real.

Well, I think that's about it. Oh no, wait. I forgot to mention the weather. While the temperature had been mild ranging between 40 and 60 degrees, the rain has been a bitch. Who ever sang that song about it never raining in Southern California was either full of shit or has never been here during the "winter". I woke up to gale force winds, tree limbs whipping around and a all out deluge. The good part is it pretty much stops during the day. The better part is it will be in the 70's next weekend which is perfect for my second LA jaunt (see you soon Rosenda!!!). I hear tell it's like a billion degrees below zero in NY and there's an epidemic of frozen nipples taking over the city. That sucks... big time *snicker*.

Ok, that should be about it. Sheesh, I almost omitted the tequila edit:

Strawberry Margharita's get the ok.

Look at the smile on my kisser... can the people say CHEESE!!!

getting ready for an interesting Sunday...

Today's LoLCat Comes With A Blog-By

2009-12-10T07:09:00.001-05:00

2010 edit: No Fear. Yeah. It's about me...
I have a weird kind of insomnia that causes me to awaken at the same time every night. Between the hours of 2:30 and 3:00 am PST every morning, I wake up to use the bathroom. I call it the pee clock. Not to be confused with the body clock that wakes me up to give my niece breakfast by 8:15 am pst. Since I have racing thoughts, it takes me a while to get back to sleep. Sometimes I get stuck on one particular thought and I go over it and over it.

It can be anything. A song, a funny anecdote, something I talked to a friend about, a movie or show I watched or just a random thought that pops in to my head.Tonight's recurring thought is about some real bullshit my friend told me. I can't figure it out so I'm going to write about it. Maybe that will let me go back to sleep finally...

All About A

(names have been changed to protect both innocence and stupidity)

A is a beautiful girl. Smart, vivacious, out-going, load's o' shiny fun and a bit of a firecracker. I love hanging out with her (when I'm around) and she always makes me laugh when she's in a good mood. The problem is: her mood has really sucked cheese nips as of late. The reason? A is the only woman I know that gives me a run for my money when it comes to dating unsavory characters. I pick some winners but A? She dates the Dukes and Earls of Douchebaggery. Seriously.

Her latest guy is working my damn nerves. She finally got rid of the guy that used to think it was ok to belt her one across the jaw. For some strange reason she traded him in for the one that has her on an emotional rollercoaster. I try to be a good friend and just listen but sometimes I want to yell FUCK THAT PIECE OF SHIT! LEAVE HIS ASS ALONE! But you know how it goes. Friends want you to listen, they don't really want advice. Most people already know what to do and the fact that they haven't done it yet means that they're not ready or don't want to do it. You telling them anything is pointless. It either goes in one ear and out the other or it angers them to hear the truth and you compromise your friendship with that person.

Needless to say, whenever A calls me about 46 (random number) near or in tears, I commiserate and add the requisite "Oooh girl, NO HE DIDN'T!" at the proper intervals. What's making me sad is that as time goes by, these calls are getting more and more frequent. They're always having some kind of problem and this has been going on for some time now. They bicker non-stop. They play the blame game. They barely get along with each other but they both claim they're in love. I swear, I've been around them a few times and it doesn't seem like love to me, it seems like a bad acid trip.

Now that I'm in Cali, I don't have to be confronted with the pure fuckery that is their "relationship" in person. I get to hear about his latest bouts of chicanery by phone. It's a lot easier to deal with, as I have the option to say "Girl, I gotta go take care of my niece/check the food on the stove/gouge out my ear drums," whenever the tales of their latest episodes gets to working that last nerve. It's worn down to a nub, that last nerve is and it can't take much more bullshit.

Tonight I sat on the phone listening to the more recent acts of fuckery perpertrated by her boyfriend, and trust me, I use that terms looser than Perez Hilton's morals. After about an hour of listening to her breaking heart, I had to beg off because, as usual, I wanted to slap some sense into her and tell her to leave this guy alone. Douchebag 2.0 is no better than Tool 1.0. She's still crying all the time, only difference is these tears don't come with a handprint to the jaw.

Today's LoLCat in 3, 2, 1...

see more angry kittehs here...

Sometimes I wonder if I'm going to stop being her friend because I can't deal with her shitty relationships. I've got my own crap to go through in that department and her issues make love an even more depressing than it already can be when you're in love with the wrong damn person for you. I swear, the fact that she won't leave him alone IRKS THE FUCK OUT OF ME. It's not as if she can't get a date or dudes aren't giving her the eye all the time. Why is she sticking with this one guy that treats her like an afterthought? It makes me want to tear my fucking hair out and considering the fact that the mohawk doesn't leave me much in the way of hair, this is NOT A GOOD THING.

I don't know how much longer I can listen to her suffer without saying something to the effect of "bitch it's him or me". She makes me so sad when she's upset that I feel like I'm the one that just got played. Something's got to give.

But in the meantime, let me leave you with the words I couldn't say to her tonight:
Any man who only speaks to you from 9:00 am to 5:00 pm, that you can't get in contact with at any other time unless it's a brief call when he knows you're sleeping, has a woman... and it's NOT YOU!
By the way: No HE'S NOT SLEEPING the other 16 hours.
Gah!
What are you? Stupid or just plain dumb?

I hope she reads this and it jolts her back to reality. She stops by my blog sometimes. When you do see this, girl, this is coming from a place of love, really it is. I just want you to be happy.

m.
insomnia is a bitch...

Eye Candy

2009-12-08T13:57:00.000-05:00

First off, those of you that know Elle need to stop by her blog. She was in an accident YES SHE'S OK... her car? Not so much. Go give her some love. The Pirate needs it.

Yes, I am fully aware that I suck... Along with the fact that I've been busy getting the last of the boxes out of the new house, I just haven't had the urge to write anything. I'm feeling a bit unproductive these days. I'm thinking of finding part time work. Not just for the money, but to have something to supplement the few projects I've got knocking around. I've got big dreams, but right now I'm wide awake. The creative part of me is screaming out for release. What's the M to do?

I've also got a new hobby: eye-shadow application. I've recently fallen in love with eye-makeup and realized, albeit at a late stage, how blah my every day look used to be. I love shopping for the stuff since it's less pricey than clothing and gets more use. Here's one of my first attempts at blending etc... It's part of pampering myself. Recently I got treated to a day of beauty and it made me feel so good about myself that it's not funny. I felt renewed and refreshed.

I had a hellified day.

Eyebrows threaded

Toes done

Nails applied

Hair cut

Nikes purchased

I feel footloose and fancy free. Yay for me!

I recently connected with a few old friends. Some of them I've known since I was 16 or so, others are more recent going back only 3 or 4 years. It's great to see some folks again. This is especially true when it comes to people that I didn't always get along with, I've done/said some uncalled for sideways shit to, or I simply lost contact with. Catching up was great and it also made me feel in touch with the world.

For a very long time, my day-to-day revolved around 1 person. At first it was nice but then it began to be a trial. When you depend on 1 person for your entire social repertoire, you can get sick of them rather quickly and vice versa. Isolation from your peers and not having a routine of your own can lead to despondency and depression if you're not careful. I tend to lean more towards the "cabin fever" syndrome and belligerence, which is detrimental for any relationship, friend or otherwise.

Of course being away from home, I have a moment to breathe, concentrate on myself, my well being and my needs. I also get to connect with my family and reconnect with friends. I get to choose the parameters of my every day life instead of it being assumed I will automatically spend today with Y doing Z... A roundabout explanation but I'm sure you all catch my drift.

I've also been looking at a lot of trailers lately. No, not the kind that Luann lives in, movie trailers. There's glut in the market of INSANELY BAD MOVIES (i.e. The Box - ruined a perfectly good short story...Gah!). The thought of going to the movies (along with exorbitant cost) doesn't exactly make me want to whoop and holler. However, I have come across a few things that I absolutely MUST see. Peep the trailers:

Evangelion 1.0

DayBreakers

Blood: The Last Vampire

And saving the best for last...

LEGION

It's so going down!

Fresh, right? Yeah, you gotta wait for it but it will be so worth it. Trust me.

Of course there has been good food and good times. I was going to write a blow-by-blow of my trip to LA but since one of my friends is acting like a tool, I won't bother. It always fucks me up when people act funny style. Like really? I've known some folks for the better part of 16 - 20 YEARS. Then out of no where they decide it's a good idea to act the complete ass. Hmpf. Well, it's not me so they can go on ahead. I REFUSE to carry bags that aren't mine any more. While people that form the fool are doing their thing, I'm doing mine.

AUTHOR'S EDIT: THE REASON FOR THE MISUNDERSTANDING IN THE FOLLOWING PORTION HAS BEEN EXPLAINED. THERE WAS A MONKEY IN THE MIDDLE STIRRING UP SHIT. TURNS OUT DUDE WAS TALKING TO HER AND FEEDING HER LIES ABOUT ME AND VICE VERSA... EVERYTHING DONE IN THE DARK ALWAYS COMES TO LIGHT... ALWAYS. IT WOULD DO FOLKS WELL TO REMEMBER THAT.
I'd swear under oath that heffas can be so fucking asinine sometimes.

Like this chick I know casually in NYC. We used to be cool, then she got cool with this dude I know and all of a sudden wanted no parts of me. She claims I don't like her and I got all sorts of beef with her.
Um: Bitch please.
I'm not even thinking about that ass. Then she went on to claim that she's avoiding me because I've been ice-grilling her and she thinks I want to fight her.
*presses rewind* Bitch please!
a) I'm getting too old and growing too much to be running around slapping chicks in their mouths
and
b) If I did step outside of myself and want to fight the goblin, I would have elbowed her in the throat a long time ago. I'm not the type of person to wait around. Heffa, if I wanted to fight you, YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN THE FIRST TO KNOW.

At first I tried to figure out what's going on with this idiot and squash it. I believe it has a lot to do with the fact that she has a jones for the guy we know, who in turn, likes me. Trick, it ain't my fault... The funny part about it is, from what I know, even if he wasn't attracted to me, he STILL wouldn't be attracted to her. Go figure.

She tried to get all slick out her face and didn't realize that all the shit that she was saying about me was BEING BROUGHT RIGHT BACK TO ME. Silly rabbit... tricks are for kids. I've said it once, I'll say it again: Just because you see someone's teeth, DOES NOT MEAN THEY'RE SMILING AT YOU. Stupid. Everybody ain't your friend honey. They could give a fuck about you. As for me, when I heard her talking that "Mala is beneath me" bullshit, I decided to let it go. She doesn't impact my life on a daily basis and personally I could care less if she tripped on MY ego and broke her face. So I let it go. Come to find out I'm WAY THE FUCK ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE COUNTRY and this mud-duck is STILL steady bringing my name out her mouth.

Play it again Sam: Bitch Please

and

Fuck you very much.

That will be all

Thanks

She can eat a bag of dicks. I don't want to fight her. I don't have beef with her, AT ALL. If we have "issues", it's all in her mind because outside of writing this, I don't think about her whack ass. I wouldn't give a shit if she caught a violent case of rickets. Word.

Gotta love the haters though.

Moving right along.

So while in LA I didn't do too much. I went to Santa Monica Pier and took pictures. I had Cuban food because if I have another burrito I'm going to throw a brick across the border. I went to Lucky's, Little Temple and the Well. I ate Roscoe's Chicken and Waffles at some insane hour of the morning and came home.

<--- yon Cuban food... looks gross, tasted great!

Back in Sandi, I did some shopping for Christmas gifts for the girls. Well, not so much "shopping" as looking at & laying-away stuff. Remember y'all, M is on a strict, I-is-unemployed-right-now budget so I gotta be careful. My sister and I went to the Gaslamp District.

oh.

Let me just tell you that if you are going to the GD please, for the love of all that's good and holy, GO HELLA EARLY. Why? because there is no parking. Seriously. It's worse than parking in downtown Manhattan. I mean it. Even the parking lots are full! We drove around for an HOUR looking for parking and ended up paying $10 for a spot in a lot after waiting for someone to pull out!! Gah!

oh.

I nearly forgot to say Fuck You to that guy that tried to "accost my sister". Here's the deal: after spending the better part of our evening looking for parking, my sister and I couldn't figure out where to go. I stopped and asked this guy wearing a city-worker's vest, figuring he would know. As we were standing there talking to the cw, three clearly drunk dudes (one casper looking motherfucker and two over buff guys wearing their little brother's tight ass shirts) were walking towards us.

My MSense started tingling and I just KNEW one of these fools was going to try to talk to either my sister or me. Casper walks right up on my sister, throws one hand around her waist and the other on her arm.

HELLS

So I asked him "Do you always walk up and touch people you don't know? That kind of shit works where you come from? Seriously? No for real, how does that work?" Because people, that shit is RUDE AS FUCK. I mean really. He doesn't know her. Suppose her husband was nearby? It could have caused MAJOR problems for EVERYONE standing on that corner. Did I mention he doesn't know her? And she's my little sister? I don't care how old she is I'm ALWAYS gonna be protective of her. Why? Because she's a sweet girl, that's why and it takes a whole hell of a lot to push her to the point of handing a motherfucker her version of the Riot Act 2.0. It doesn't take me that long. I like to nip shit in the bud.

Anyway, he removed the offending appendages from her personage and STILL tried to kick it to her, with his drunk ass. Then he had the nerve to say "Why don't you tell me if you want to hang out since she's (meaning me) being so rude..."

EX-SQUEEZE ME?

I'm being rude? He put is hands on A WOMAN HE DOESN'T KNOW, I check him and I'm the one that's rude? Nah man, as we say in Antigua "dat cyan wuk". You know what happened next right? Yup. I pulled out my trusty-dusty can o' venom and SPRAYED THAT ASS. I let him have it. Bronx style. What motherfucker, What!

In the meantime, one of the tight-shirt metro boys had walked back over and stood there looking rather wetodded with stupid ass grin on his face. So I says to grin-a-rosie "Why don't you get your friend and y'all go on about y'alls business before this shit here get real ugly, cuz it's going bad and it's going bad fast." My sister goes "Oooop, let's go." The cw (who had been trying to tell casper to shut his gob) walks away with us laughing because I'm slanging some choice tidbits at the fool. The cw is like "I've heard some shit in my day but you are GOOD." My sis is like "You have no idea..." As we're walking away casper shouts out that I should go fuck my self... "Not until you're done eating a bag of dicks homey..."

Yep.

I LOVE handing that one to the unsuspecting.

Confrontation? Over.

We then went to Fred's Mexican Cafe. I don't know about you, but I have NEVER met a Mexican named Fred. Seriously. However, the calamari strips we had were hella good, the bartender knows how to treat a Grand Marnier drinker and they played 80's videos the whole time we were there. Lemme just tell you that Bobby Brown wearing bike shorts with suspenders is fucking HILARIOUS when you're tipsy. Big fun.

The rest of my time has pretty much been spent at home f'doodlin. I've been helping to do the final unpacking and organizing of the house. My sister has insane amounts of stuff. Finding places to put it is a chore best left to those of my ilk who are blessed with a knack for organization complemented by a mild case of OC that-shit-goes-right-there D. I made chicken cutlet parmigana for the first time ever and I swear no one spoke A WORD while eating. Yup. It was pretty damn good. At one point we thought we lost the dog but it turned out that one of the girls had locked poor Bandit in their closet. The discovery of Bandit's whereabouts involved a small amount of pee and a mild heart attack. What? You'd be in the same boat if something furry, with teeth and larger than an ant jumped out at you when you opened a closet door and you didn't expect it. Just sayin'...

Anyway, I'm going to get going. There's a three year old wandering around the house. She's too quiet and my MSense is telling me she's touching some shit she shouldn't be.

<---- lovin cali livin...

Gobble Gabble

2009-11-30T02:00:00.000-05:00

edit: i'll add the rest of the pix tomorrow... i'm too dang tired now. yep.

Ok, I'm back. And don't act like you didn't miss me because you know you did!

So here's what's been going on since I last ~~complained~~ wrote:

Thanksgiving

On to the festivities...

LET'S TALK TURKEY

This Thanksgiving was one of the best I've had in years and I was so happy and content to be where I was, surrounded by people I love and care about. My last 3 sets of holidays were pretty bad. During that time I pretty much spent my birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's and Valentine's Day either alone, hanging out as if it wasn't a special day or only getting a few hours of qt before being left for other parts unknown. I never received a gift, a card, flowers or time. This year I promised it would be different. It started off the same but I realized that the only reason it was an unhappy time was because I was allowing it to be. My birthday this year was pretty lousy. I won't even discuss it. You see, I promised not to talk about certain friends and other folks on this blog because they swore it was ruining their lives. I intend to keep that promise Listening to people bitch and moan that ME sharing MY LIFE EXPERIENCES is awful for them is really an exercise in patience. The fact that I don't go postal is amazing. Suffice to say that I celebrated my birthday by going to the same old places I go normally. No romance. No gifts. No ma'am, that can't work...

After the pure, unadulterated fuckery that took place on my birthday, I made up my mind that I, Mala, would NOT LET ANYONE ELSE RUIN ANY OTHER HOLIDAY IN ANY WAY. So it was promised, so it was done. This Thanksgiving was proof positive that change can only be initiated by the person who desires the change. I didn't sit around waiting for anyone else to make me happy, I made myself happy. That shit so works!

My sister and I decided to cook and although we got off to a late start, it was fantastic. The menu consisted of a big ole turkey, a big ole ham, collard greens with ham hocks, potato salad, baked macaroni and cheese, stuffing with cranberry, spanish rice, black beans, iron skillet cornbread with cranberries, whole cranberry jelly (running theme here), candied yams and corn on the cob. We went IN!!! My sister is DANGEROUS with a damn turkey, let me tell you! My only contribution to the bird was to advise that it be cooked in the rack on it's belly, that way the breast wouldn't dry out. It's a cool little trick and although it's not pretty, it ensures the bird stays moist. I took pictures of everything as we cooked so it's not all serving platter pretty but it was good. When I tell you my sister put her foot in that turkey and her other foot in her spanish rice, I mean it. By the time we were all done eating, it was all we could do to stagger to our beds and fall into a food induced coma. We couldn't even eat dessert. We were a turkey-laden mess. My friends Nas & Kish came through with their adorable son and we all talked, laughed and basically were thankful for being (even though this is not one of my favorite holidays because of what it represents). However, if we have a day off from work to come together, enjoy and appreciate our company all at the same time in every house in the cul-de-sac, why not do it?

I went to bed at about 9pm that night. NO lie.

Pause.

The old man sitting in the seat in front of me just farted. I loathe him. This is what I get for wanting to sit somewhere quiet. We are the only two people in the car. He was sitting on the other side from where I am and for some strange reason decided to get up and sit on my side. Gah!

Resume.

GRAY FRIDAY

I don't know about you but I didn't blackout shopping on Friday. I did hit the mall with Nas, Kisha and the baby but I wasn't overly impressed...

It was a pain in the ass getting to the mall because parking was a bitch. People were acting like St. Anthony's sandals were on sale and going fast. The weird thing is: there wasn't much of a sale! When I was growing up (man, I'm even starting to ~~show my age~~ sound old), black Friday sales were something crucial. Stores were trying to move merch at any cost. Prices were slashed 50-75% on already discounted merchandise. It was nuts. This year I walked in and the the deepest discount I found was 50% off on clearance items. Most stores offered 10-40% off. To me that is no different from their "hi today is Saturday" sale prices. I wasn't impressed. I did find one or two things that made me smile but other than that, it was largely a bust. I did find some fake suede booties at Forever 21. Shoot me, but every so often I find stuff I like in teeny-bopper shops. You have to remember that I wear a size 0 - 1 and I can't find clothes that fit well everywhere that has the kind of umpf style I like. Trust me, I don't go overboard with the scandalous outfits but I will throw on some liquid leggings and strut my stuff. Yup. There's also a discount shop called Papaya that I found a really nice satiny cocktail dress. I gotta take a pic in it to show you... Maybe I'll rig up the old tripod and try that tomorrow.

It's takes a little more effort to be fashionable when you're as broke as I am. The things that I would really love to buy I can't even dream about affording right now without a ~~sugar daddy~~ lottery windfall. Basically I have caviar taste on a spam budget. I make it work by going to a lot of thrift stores and also going to lower-end shops. When I say lower-end, it doesn't mean it's all trash, just most of it. You don't always get the quality and construction of pricey pieces but you can still look good for next to nothing. Just because I buy cheap doesn't mean I'm willing to buy anything that is really badly made. I don't go for shitty construction or material that disintegrates if you look at it too hard. I like low-priced items that look good and hold up reasonably well for the price. All that considered, thrift shops are THE SHIT. I have found some really beautiful pieces dirt cheap. I was supposed to post about my thriftiness but I've been slacking off. I won't do that anymore. I'm going to go back to being faithful to the things that make me happy and blogging is one of them.

I had to share this with y'all...

yes. I was confused as well. I forgot the name of the taco stand in the mall that she works at because you've GOT TO SEE THIS SHIT IN PERSON. I was so distracted I couldn't order my food. Clearly she either:

a) has no friends

b) her friends hate her.

I don't know which one it is but it was nuts.

After all the semi-shopping, we headed back to the house to revisit the thanksgiving smörgåsbord that was still taking up all the space in our refrigerator. After we ate, Kisha et al. gave me a ride to the Amtrak station so that I could head to LA for the weekend to visit my LA crew. I didn't get to see all of my friends on this go round because many of them had gone back to their original homes for the holidays. However I haven't been to LA in over 6 years and it was good to be back. The last time I was in LA I didn't do that much. I stayed at a hotel near the airport so I didn't go to many places. I did surf... well, let's be honest. I got on the surfboard and when the first wave smacked my ass I kind of just wheezed and got off the surfboard. It was then I decided to stick to skateboarding because unlike water, the ground doesn't hit you back when you hit it. I saw Prince live at the Staples Center, went to a Spanish club and that was pretty much it. Prior to that trip I hadn't been to LA since somewhere around '92 (it was the year Ice Cube's "Death Certificate" came out - damn I'm getting old...).

I'm going to have to get back to the trip specifics another time. My train is pulling into the station and I gotta get ready to get off... Besides, my laptop battery is drained.

See y'all soon

what do you mean my website is down...gah!!!!

Blog By #1: No That Heffa Ain't

2009-11-25T17:27:00.000-05:00

Ok, "Blog By" is the phrase I'm going to use when I have something quick to say about what ever is on my my mind at odd moments.

Let us begin.

So there's this chick from my "past" who I have a tendency to cyber-run into every so often. The world is a small place and the internet makes it even smaller. I don't like the broad. Mainly because she slept with my man (well, she slept with him when I had a man and he was it... past tense). Now I know people say it's not all the woman's fault. Trust me, I'm well aware of the part he played in it and the proper riot act was read to him with haste when called for.

The issue I had with her is that she SMILED IN MY FACE while she was doing it. Look bitches, if you're gonna fuck someone else's partner (no matter who initiated it) have the common courtesy to not ATTEMPT TO BEFRIEND THE BROAD while you're doing it. Because when a dame finds out your ass is scandalous and tells you that she's gonna push your teeth out the back of your head DON'T BE SURPRISED!

Anyway back to the bridge troll... She not only fucked him but turned around and still hung out with him on the low. They're both guilty as hell of smiling in my face and doing the dumb shit behind my back. I can't begin to tell you the amount of inappropriate texts, emails and discussions (as well a instances of hanging out) that took place AFTER the whole upheaval of him cheating. He and I were trying to go through the healing process (or so my dumb ass thought) and they were still playing doctor...

Needless to say he got punted way past the curb and she's still afraid that I might make good on a few promises I made to her pertaining to the changing of her destiny if she didn't hold her corner. I've long since moved on until today...

While browsing around the global village that is the net, I noticed a discussion taking place about "real men". And who, might you ask, was involved in the aforementioned conversation? Yep. The fucking bridge troll. Her stance? Something to the effect that there was a shortage of real men who knew how to act.

*blank stare*

Bitch. Please.
You have the nerve to comment on the behavior of real men when you contribute to the bullshit that suckers do? You knowingly participated in acts of infidelity and went so far as to try to befriend the woman who was being effected by the fuckery while attempting to excuse your behavior AND condone his?
Fuck. You.

Why don't you act like a "real woman" and stop FUCKING OTHER WOMEN'S BOYFRIENDS/PARTNERS/HUSBANDS/SIGNIFICANT BOTHERS!! (yes i do mean significant bother) Don't contribute to the madness. But since you are contributing by gapping your legs for any dude that throws your insecure ass compliment (you fucking mud duck), I suggest you go siddown somewheres and
Shut.
The Fuck.
Up.

Thanks.

m.
delivering that venom on the fly with a blog by...

Cali-4-Ni-Aaaay

2009-11-25T12:16:00.000-05:00

Let me begin at the point that I left off.

I ran into my homegirl at the airport. Turns out she works for JetBlue (I LOVE JETBLUE). She was nice enough to upgrade my seat to the front where there's a little more legroom etc... I didn't think about it until I got on the plane but I'm 5'1"... the hell do I need more legroom for? It also seems that I'm cursed. Although I thoroughly appreciated my girl giving me the new, improved, seat at the front of the aircraft (first broad on, first broad off type dealie), there was a price to pay. I got stuck next to a chatterbox and her kid.

Let me start by hipping you all to the fact that I am not a big fan of flying. Something about being thousands of feet above the ground makes me queasy in places better left unmentioned. As a matter of fact I don't feel that great on anything moving unless it's my feet. My skateboarding skills end at hills and high curbs. I have been known to to run into a parked car on bikes and I sit up on the wheel like a little old lady when driving (which makes the fact that I tend to speed even more hilarious). All in all, I am slightly motion-challenged. I'm a ground person and I'm happy that way. The last thing I want to deal with on a flight while trying to keep my food from coming out of either end during turbulence, is another scaredy cat yapper.

This woman talked for 5 FUCKING HOURS. I mean it. 5. the flight was 5 and a half hours. She, like many small children usually do, fell asleep HALF AN HOUR BEFORE WE LANDED. Yes. I did want to strangle that ass. Her 4 year old daughter was a doll for the most part. She and the other little girl sitting across the aisle were very well behaved. The baby sitting behind me was also pretty good. She only threw a fit once or twice. The lady sitting next to me, however? PAIN IN MY CUTE LITTLE BUTT. We hit a patch of turbulence that had me hedging my bets by praying to a couple of Gods. She decided the look of abject fear on my face wasn't enough to keep her mouth shut, so she started talking about PLANE CRASHES. Gah!!!

If that wasn't enough, this woman kept asking me questions about my life. If I didn't answer a particular question, she'd rephrase it as if I was too stupid to realize she was still being fucking nosy. For example:

"What are you going to San Diego for?"
"To visit family."
"So what do you plan on doing while you're in San Diego?"
"I plan on visiting my family."
"So you're not going to do anything in particular?"
"Yes, actually I'm particularly going to visit my family..."

Bitch. Are you wetoddid?

I could go on and on about blabberjabber but I don't have the energy. Needless to say, just as I was thanking the various Gods I had prayed to during the turbulent times for granting me the boon of causing her to nod off, the captain told us to get ready to land. FUCK. Thanks.

Upon deplaning, I went to what I think is the prettiest mosaic tiled airport bathroom, then was forced to walk at least half a mile to baggage claim. I got my gear, got in the car and requested sustenance. This came in the form of DelTaco. Think Taco Bell on steroids. I told my boy Evan about my first meal and he asked if we were all on crack. Direct quote? "You're right next to Mexico and you're eating a fast food burrito? Y'all must be on crack..." I told my sister that we should stop at a mom & pop joint but that idea was nixed because broinlaw doesn't like to try new things and feels safer with fast food.
No. That doesn't make any sense to me either.

We arrived home and before you cold say "flibbertygibbert" I was asleep... only to awaken while it was still dark out because I still was on NY time. I'm working on that one. I woke up at 8am eastern the last 3 days but this morning I managed to fall back asleep.

I'm going to have to continue this a little later because the load of laundry I'm doing just stopped and there's some high-pitched squealing of the 3 year old variety going on...

m.
getting her domestic goddess on....

California Dreamin'

2009-11-21T16:00:00.000-05:00

I'm sitting in the terminal waiting for my flight to California to start boarding. As always, I feel weird leaving NYC behind because it's my home. On the other hand I'm so looking forward to what life might be like in Cali...With the exception of a few things... like my brother-in-law and not having a car.

Let me just tell you how I LOVE JetBlue. The curbside bag check? A breeze. $2 and no hassle. I was actually 4lbs over and dude let me take out a few items until I was only 1lb over and he let me slide. Security checkpoint was a breeze. The nice lady reminded me to take off my belt and didn't make me take off all of my silver jewelry. Then there's the free wifi. Yaaay!

My last few days in NY sucked. I enjoyed hanging at Madame X and got quite snookered. Rani sure can make a drink. As for the rest of my time, meh... The less said about that, the better. Not to mention it's really not worth it.

Holy crap. it's now 4pm. We're boarding on time. I LOVE JETBLUE. Word. To easy flights and whatnot.

M,
getting her travel on...

Do-Over

2009-11-16T23:00:00.000-05:00

Remember that? Back in school when you were playing during recess and you missed the hoop/goal/ball-altogether, you asked for a do-over then you made up some lame ass excuse as to why you needed one? I need a do-over on this blog.

I wrote a long, well crafted and rather long winded post earlier today. Then I took it down because I realized how lame it was to sit around and complain about db. Seriously. So I'll complain about something else...Heh!

My feelings are kind of hurt. I'm heading to see my lilsis in a few days and I just found out that her husband doesn't particularly want me (or my mom) to come out there. I'm kind of offended. I admit that we didn't always get along but I thought we solved all of that and left it behind us when sis shipped out to Irag. Maybe I was wrong. I'm starting to believe that he wants to keep lilsis and the girls all to himself. Too bad we're family and I love them. I guess he also forgot that I do my best to help out when I'm around. I guess this trip won't be as comfortable as I hoped. But that's not what matters. My nieces and lilsis does.

My mom has a habit of talking to me from 3 rooms away and then expects me to answer. I'm not too sure why but it drives me nuts.

My lilsis brought back a fantastically toasty blanket from Iraq. It's so warm it's insane. I have one problem though... it's not exactly cold but it isn't warm either so I keep driving myself batshit taking the blanket off my legs then getting cold and putting it back on. I'm getting really tired.

I have a wedgie.
Seriously.

I'm going to stop writing because I really don't have much to say.
So here's a pic...

m.
doing a whole lot of nothing...

I Got A New Attitude

2009-11-05T22:22:00.000-05:00

Today's title brought to you by the one and only legend Ms. Patti LaBelle. Take a gander because she sat down with the women and served the children. Snaps. Amen.

These ladies know their stuff. Get 'em Ms. Patti!!!

How do you like the new look?
It goes with my new outlook on life..
The nice folks over at PYZAM gives stuff like this out for free.
Go visit them.
Seriously.
Go.
Now
IT'S FREE DAMMIT!!!

m,
is willing to donate to people who give her stuff for free

Today's LoLcat & I Need Therapy

2009-11-04T15:13:00.000-05:00

see more kittehs that'll gitcha here

DoucheBaggery For Your Ass

I swear... you'd think I'd have learned by now. I seriously need to ~~to procure a prescription for Valium~~ get help because honestly, I cannot tell you why I ~~run like hell from~~ keep letting the same people come around that try their best to inflict misery. I'm not going to sit here and talk about how bad of a douchbag my ex is because it's partially my fault. I keep letting the db within a hundred yards of me and thinking he's gonna at like a human being.... EPIC FAIL.

The other night my homegirl invited me down to her open mic. I went because I always skip her events and I was beginning to feel really bad about it. I figured db wouldn't be there because he has a job now and he usually tries to act like an adult when he's employed.

Wrong.

I walk up to the venue, say hi to the few people I know and walk right past the db who had the nerve to say hi to me. I go inside and order a drink. He sidles up to the bar and calls me over... by reaching across other patron to tap my shoulder repeatedly. So, because clearly I don't have the sense God gave a rock, I go over to see what he wants.
Mistake 1.
He begins to lecture me on how dare I not say hello. My response? Motherfucker I don't owe you a word, pivot, exit scene.

I run into a guy I haven't seen in a while. He hugs me and we start to chitchat. Db throws a napkin at me. I turn to see what his fucking problem is and he holds up 5 fingers. I go over and ask him what the hell is his dysfunction.
Mistake 2.
He tells me I have 5 minutes before he smacks me in the face with a beer stein.
My response? Motherfucker I wish you would. I tell his bff to get his ass before I call the fucking cops.

I then go sit down after telling my friend-from-the-old-days that I'll catch up with him later because I don't want my fftod, his brother and his boys to beat the living shit out of db. Look at me having a heart and whatnot. Pfffffft....

I alert my girl Raine to the douchebaggery going on and proceed to enjoy the show. Db walks out. I thought he left so I relaxed.
Wrong.
He re-enters, sits down next to me and implores me to be polite because after all we've been through we should at least be friends. I try to not vomit be somewhat civil because I don't want the world in my business. I tell him calmly that I have nothing to say to him besides eat a bag of monkey dicks. His response? He wrenches my crackberry out of my hand and leaves with it. I tell his friend he's got 5 seconds to give me back my property. He gives it back... minus 1 track ball and a few keys missing. Fuck. Phone 4... down and out.

You would think I would have had the sense to either call the cops, leave or kick him in the balls by now.
Nope.
Why?
Because I, La Loca Mala, am a fucking jackass...

In the next 20 minutes he:
walked up to me while I was talking to someone and pulled my hair (which prompted the guy to run for the hills - who the fuck wants to be around a chick with drama)
Stood in front of me and told me that nobody is gonna help me then pulled a lighter out of his pocket and attempted to light my fucking hair on fire (minor singeing occurred)
passed me on my way to the atm inside the venue (where I was getting money to get the fuck out of there) and shoved me into the bar.
called me many a tasty name such as fucking cunt/bitch/whore

Until I finally got a cab to get out of dodge...
Yep.
He's a real winner.

But somewhere along the line when we were dating I let him think this kind of behavior was acceptable. He was always a pro at name calling and property destruction when we were together. He claimed it's because I'm mean and I torture him... and because he thinks I believe that there are no consequences for my actions. He's wrong. There are consequences for me allowing people who aren't worthy of being stifled with a pillow at night into my life. That consequence is experiencing abuse... emotional and mental FUCKERY by a douchebag disguised as a nice guy.

After that whole experience, he has the nerve to email to tell me that he loves me so much that :
he will act an ass if I see him in public
he is going to treat any other woman that he deals with like shit because I left him
he is in pain that only I can fix

Yes people. I knew how to pick 'em didn't I.

So I blocked him from calling/texting my phone, blocked his email address, removed and blocked him from bbmessengering me. I scheduled myself for sessions with a dv counselor. I also made arrangements to visit my sister when she moves to San Diego so that I can step away from my usual surroundings.

I'm so done. It's bad enough when a person is in an abusive relationship but going through the bullshit with an abusive EX-RELATIONSHIP is just too much to stomach. Seriously. 911 is on speed-dial. I took my counselor's advice and created a list of boundaries and limits that I will not allow ANYONE to cross. That was therapeutic and a great step towards where I want to go in my future.

Am I embarrassed? Yep. A little bit. But I'm not ashamed. These things happen. The trick is to recover from them and move forward healthily. I also hope someone reads this and maybe gets a little strength from it. I have friends who have dealt with physical abuse. I've had my own experiences but honestly I've found mental/emotional fuckery to be so very harmful and much harder to exit because of the brainwashing involved... But nothing is forever and I'm not afraid to ask for help.

Beyond Thunderdome

My mom is a hoot.
My daughter is doing rather well in school
My nieces have decided that I have no right to be in NY and I should "come home ti-ti"
I've become addicted to Kitchen Nightmares (preferably the UK version)
I have THE CRAZY CRUSH on Gordon Ramsay
I lost all the weight I gained due stress :( but I'm working on gaining it back
Life is Good.
And to prove it, here's some Halloween Happiness

m.
is picking herself up and dusting herself off...

3 THE HARD WAY @ LITTLEFIELD

2009-08-15T12:49:00.000-04:00

I will be working that night. Get with the program...

Hello To Day

2009-08-03T05:01:00.000-04:00

At a million o'clock in the morning I'm feeling inspired...

I've taken some time to look around at the people I know and what they are doing. I'm proud to say that I know and have known some pretty amazing people in my life. That makes me very happy. I've also known some real dirtbags and happiness about that? Not so much.

I have so much to be thankful for. Wonderful family, fantastic friends and health to enjoy them both. I spent some time thinking about why, when I have all these things at my disposal, am I not doing more of the things I love.

The answer?
Me.

I have a penchant for foolishness that causes me to do things that aren't always conducive for living the life that I deserve. I can't blame anyone else but myself but what I can do is live beyond my potential.

So from now forward I fully intend to practise "Me-ism". If mine right hand doth offend me, I shalt cut it off. No more half-assed friends, no more people I can't trust. If it's not beneficial, it's outta here.

I have some work to do. Actual work that I fully plan on getting paid for. Once that's over, it's time to clean house, both literally and figuratively. Time to get rid of everyone and thing that does not benefit me... so offline if you never hear from me again YOU just might be one of those things (or I lost your # - hey, a girl can make mistakes...)

M.
on some MeMe sh*t...

Conversations From The Edge

2009-07-25T06:48:00.000-04:00

He said: Fuck you bitch... I hate you... I hope you die... you should do the world a favor and kill yourself...

I said:....

There's nothing left to say after that... is there?

M.
Does not die on command...

Hiatus

2009-07-08T04:38:00.000-04:00

I've been gone due to a lot of drama that finally ended tonight. Now I'm looking towards the future. I'll be back with an update soon... honest injun!

WHEREVER I MAY ROAM

2009-06-02T09:20:00.000-04:00

"carved upon my stone, my body lies, but still I roam..."

It's been an interesting trip, full of rain, some rain and then rain. By the time it finally stopped raining I was so over hoping for sun that I didn't even notice. Leaving is bittersweet. I have good friends, old friends and new friends in Florida that I'm really going to miss while I'm gone. The upside is I'll be back in about 2 months to try to bask in the sunshine once again.

I'm excited to go back to NYC. It's my home and I truly miss it.There are so many people that I can't wait to see as well as quite a few that are waiting to see me ~insert blush~ and that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I also know that there's a lot of shit I would rather not deal with when I get back, but I'll face that demon because I can't move forward without leaving the past behind.

I enjoyed the relaxed pace but the frenzy of NY is where I operate at peak performance. While I've been down here, I've lapsed a little because it does get lonely when my friends aren't a 10 minute cab ride away. Nothing here is close to anything else, which makes running errands a bitch. I also had to depend on others for transportation. There was no convenient subway station 2 blocks away. I spent a lot of time in contemplation and quiet. Of course this led to discussions with the ex.

It's hard to let go when you love someone - or believe you love them anyway - because love breeds hope, and sometimes hope will get you in more shit than pragmatism gets you out of. However, I'm a realist. It's one of the reasons people tend not to really get my fucked up humor and nasty habit of pretty much saying exactly what I think. The truth is, he is who he is... and that's not ever going to change. At least, not enough is going to change to make shit viable. I know I'm stuck in my ways as well. I think the only difference is that I actually want to get rid of some of my baser traits... Him? Not so much. It's always something with him. Half-truths, drama, broads (especially broads - old girlfriends, work buddies, friends, hoes - you name it, he's got some kind of shit going on with them...), petty fights and nonsense.

I will admit, I can be PETTY when I want to be. It's just that I never expect a guy to be petty with me. Petty shit is for dames like me who always want to have the last word. If I say I'm going to start dating other people because it will piss a man off, his response shouldn't be that he just got engaged to his ex girl and her cooter was better than mine anyway. Ahahahahhahaha... just writing that made me laugh... what is it with this guy and my cooter? I haven't gotten a good review since I left him.

OFF ON A TANGENT.
That whole thing about my cooter not being good to him is HILARIOUS. You know why? Because:
NO ONE CARES.
Here's what I mean. If I tell a skirt that I slept with a dude, he was whack and he had a thimbledick, there's a VERY high probability that he wont get any trim from her. Especially if more than one person has the same assessment of his skillz or lack thereof. Quickest way to salt a guy out of getting some buns is to tell a broad he has a 5 inch wang. Even if he does get some gooey, the likelihood of him getting a repeat performance is somewhere between slim and none. Any guy who you know that has an insanely high turn-over rate might not be the bad-assed player you think he is. He's either a gigolo or a puny pecker punk.

On the other hand, my ex can tell every man he sees that my cooter is whack and it won't matter. It's clean, it's disease free and that's all that counts. A dude will knock me off. I mean will! I say that with about an 85% assurance that I can get laid. Pretty much when ever I want... by whomever I choose. Because a dud will. No matter who told him it was whack.

Whack cooter might mean that I don't get hit with the fuckstick every other day but TRUST ME a dude will repeat. Even if it's on the late night... once a week. Why? Because they're men. They like cooter. A lot. I've seen some of the DUMBEST SHIT ON EARTH happen behind some man loving that funky stuff.

The name "Helen" springs to mind... Really? 10 year war? 10? I know it's mythology, yet you can be honest, this is me you're talking to... art imitates life imitates art.... repeat ad nauseum. The Iliad is based on something and there's usually truth to many stories if you know where to look. We all know some dude that has gotten into some shit behind the box. I personally watch dudes get into dumb shit and pissing contests over the box.

Before you jump me, let me just say that I am fully aware that women act a fool behind the magicwand... I have been known to let a broad know that I will change her life if she messes with my twig and berries. However, I have NEVER gotten funky over a dude I don't know and never slept with. NEVER. As in nope. Nah. Never.

Many guys can't say the same. I've watch guys mean mug each other, talk shit and damn near get into fights (and a few actually threw blows) over me and I DON'T KNOW THESE CATS. One fool gets mad because he was talking to me first, went to the bathroom, and when he got back another shark was circling in the waters. Some guy gets huffy because he bought me a drink, then some other dude said he'd buy the rest of my drinks and the two start to argue... while I exit - stage left. This has happened so much it's IGNANT. That's right. Not ignorant. Ig-fuckin-nant.

I know it's the whole beating the chest thing, male pride thing and the testosterone thing but still: it's ignant. And pretty fucking funny sometimes. I've never witnessed two chicks who don't know each other, get into a fight over a guy neither one of them knows. Never seen it. Would probably laugh myself stupid if I did. But nope. Can't say that I have.

I've heard cooter runs shit. As I get older and really see the nuances in life, I'm starting to believe it. I guess God knew cooter would allow women to have the power to make a men act a fool so he decided to make us all hate each other. That way we couldn't band together and do the same thing we do every night:
Try to take over the world...
if you know where that's from, you get a prize...

So basically that whole tangent was written to say:
Dude. Really? I'm sure someone out there wouldn't mind putting your theory to test and would beg to differ.
Ahahahahaha.
That made me feel a lot less melancholy. I was kinda "meh" when I started writing. The ex had someone in his life that he swore he never wanted to see again because of all the SERIOUS problems she caused (legal and otherwise). Funny how I found out they just reconnected and are "rebuilding" their friendship. Ugh. I was starting to get upset because I could just see the bullshit ahead when I realized:
it's not my problem anymore. I don't have to support him through any more shit or salvage anything from any more wreckage.
Whew!
Now I'm not pure evil, (no matter what he says) and I don't want to leave anyone out to dry, but there's no way I can give the same level of energy as I used to.

Enough about things gone by, on to the next order of business.
I have so much to do it's not even funny. Since I'm absolutely anal retentive about everything I can think of when it comes to travel, I'm already packed. I still have to pack the two girls up and figure out how all this baggage business is going to work because I swear to you, I have a bag filled with nothing but shoes.

I also like to cook a meal to take on the plane because peanuts and pretzels just don't cut it. So much to do, so little time....

And as always, on the sunny side of life, here's a few pictures:

The pretty girl next to me is Tara. She's so dope it's not funny... I heart her!

I'M POPULAR N SHIT:
You Know You Dead Azz Wrong!!!: Episode #3136 - You A Rock Star BayBay!!
I'll buy another shirt just for the attention... yep. I got a lot of time on my hands...

*TODAY'S THEME SONG...*

And sing along:
(And the road becomes my bride)

And the road becomes my bride
I have stripped of all but pride
So in her I do confide
And she keeps me satisfied
Gives me all I need

And with dust in throat I crave
Only knowledge will I save
To the game you stay a slave

Roamer, wanderer
Nomad, vagabond
Call me what you will

But I'll take my time anywhere
Free to speak my mind anywhere
And I'll redefine anywhere

Anywhere I roam
Where I lay my head is home

(And the earth becomes my throne)

And the earth becomes my throne
I adapt to the unknown
Under wandering stars I've grown
By myself but not alone
I ask no one

And my ties are severed clean
Less I have the more I gain
Off the beaten path I reign

Roamer, wanderer
Nomad, vagabond
Call me what you will

But I'll take my time anywhere
I'm free to speak my mind anywhere
and I'll take my time anywhere

Anywhere I roam
Where I lay my head is home
YE' YEAH

But I'll take my time anywhere
I'm free to speak my mind
And I'll take my time anywhere

Anywhere I may roam
Where I lay my head is home
I say!

But I'll take my time anywhere
I'm free to speak my mind anywhere
And I'll redefine anywhere

Anywhere I may roam
Where I lay my head is home

Carved upon my stone
My body lies, but still I roam,
Yeah yeah!

M,
redefines anywhere...

FRIDAY FROLIC: Season 1, Episode 1

2009-05-29T12:18:00.000-04:00

We now interrupt our regularly scheduled bullshit for a SERIOUS dose of happiness. Yeah, I'm really loving life right now. Why? Because sometimes getting rid of the ex millstone around your neck is the best thing to do...

The weather is beautiful, the people are fanfuckingtastic *insert blushing* and life is that good.
So let's celebrate and get our weekend on.
This dame has style & she's speaking my language.
And now, ladies and gentlemen, heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere's GRACE:

And sing along:
Driving down those city streets,
Waiting to get down,
Won't you get your big machine,
Somewhere in this town?

Now in the parking lot garage,
You'll find the proper place,
Just follow all the written rules,
You'll fit into the space.

Pull up to my bumper baby,
In your long black limosine,
Pull up to my bumper baby,
And drive it in between.

Pull up, to it, don't drive, through it,
Back it, up twice, now that, fit's nice.

Operate around the clock,
Why don't you come in?
I've got lot's of space for everyone,
Why don't you my friend?

(Lines are short),
I'll pick you up so won't you please come on,
Shiny sleek machine believe,
I've got to blow your horn.

Pull up to my bumper baby,
In your long black limousine,
Pull up to my bumper baby,
And drive it in between.

Pull up to it, don't drive through it,
Back it, up twice, now that fits nice,
Race it, straighten it, let me lubricate,
Pull up to my bumper baby...

M...
Heading back out into the sun...