This is getting really tiring...

I don't know.  Maybe I need to get laid and then I will stop being overly emotional.  Maybe if I release whatever it is that released when you get some, I will regain my ability to be a level headed person again.

I want to scream one thousand cusses right now into the wind and not stop until I have no breath left in my body.  Why must men be so damned infuriating?  They are forever complaining that they don't understand women but the truth is, we're not the hard ones to figure out.  Men are WAY more complex than women are.

I want so bad for this not to be another blog about how my ex is pissing me off.  There's about a hundred of those running through my mind right now and I need to deal with that.  There's a lot of crap running around my brain right now but I can't put it here because like shitting in the wind, it'll come back and land right in my face. I know it will.

I'm sitting here fighting off tears because life is so hard right now.  There are so many demand on my time and not very many of them are mine.  This past Saturday was probably the most fun I have had in months because I got to do something for me.  It'll be a cold day in Neverland before that happens again.

I had two things that I wanted to do this month.  Just two.  I wanted to go see Thor and I wanted to go see The hunger Games.  I've missed my chance with Thor.  And I can already tell I'm not going to get to see the Hunger Games.  At least not on opening day.  I did get Saturday and I had hella fun but think about it.  I had two small things that I wanted to do for me this month and they have to go out of the window in favor of someone else's plans.

I got some disheartening news yesterday about something that's had me questioning a few things.  One of them being should I have ever left New Jersey.  Sometimes I'm not so sure.  My son doesn't love me enough to pretend I exist unless it's a blue moon.  So that's the same as when I was there.  My love life is about the same.  No one gave a damn about me in the dating circle in NJ and No one give a damn about me here.  My friends still love me no matter where I go so there's that.

Sigh... I'm just so tired of being treated like everyone doormat.  So tired of being treated like I don't matter unless I'm needed.  So tired... So freaking tired.

I'm turning into a used up, dried up old prune and no one seems to care.  I'm screaming out for just a little relief and everyone is so busy with what they need from me or want from me or can get from me that no one hears me.

I'm 34 years old and I feel like I'm 50+.  I can honestly see why no man wants me.  What man my age wants someone who is so old in the inside?

I can't have any more kids.  At least not naturally and sometimes I'm not sure if I want to do it again at this stage in the game.  Five years ago when I was still 29 maybe.  I have 6 years, one month and two days until my youngest is 18.  I have hit the home stretch and everyone says I'm going to have empty nest syndrome like crazy but I don't think I will.  In six years, one month and two days from today's date this will be absolutely nothing holding me to this spot and... and... and...

I'm still going to be sitting right here being the good girl, making no waves, making no loud noises, hoping that someone will come along and notice me.  Sitting here in my polished shoes, and pretty white pinafore dress with my hair done up really nicely, wearing a big smile.  That'll be me.

Oh, my dad is in the hospital again.  Not good.

We may not have always gotten along, but god, I don't want to lose my Daddy.  I'm not ready to lose my Daddy...

...

Don't sweat the petty things...

Pet the sweaty things...

I always hear people say that and I get it but I don't.  I care but I don't.

You know, I used to pride myself that for awhile, I had the kind of relationship with my ex-husband that many divorced people wished they had.  We talked, we hashed out problems with little to know ripples, we so parented with a finesse that made supernanny look like a novice.

But ever since he's moved here, I find that all I want to do is rip his head off and shove it up his ass.  On a daily basis.  Well maybe not a daily basis but at the very least on a weekly basis.

I mean, I don't pretend that I am a mild mannered person.  I couldn't pull off that lie if you paid me a million dollars and got me high on Godiva chocolates.  At best most days I pull off civilized with a very convincing flair. But he pushes buttons in me that only someone that I lived with for so long can push and I wish to everything holy that I could reprogram those buttons so that he can't find the combination that makes me go off like Mt. St. Helens.

This weekend we had a plan.  He kept both of the girl Friday night because he wanted to have a B-day party for Kay.  That was fine but Saturday he was supposed to drop Kay off at my moms and keep Liv.  It was part two of Kay's birthday celebration with my mom.  She bought her her favorite Microwave pizza and a small Ben and Jerry's ice cream and they were going to stay up and have a girls night.

About ten last night, my son Facebook messages me and I asked him if Kay was still there and he said yes.  The answer I was expecting was no, she left awhile ago.  But no she was there.  So I called my ex and asked him why she was still at his house when he was supposed to have dropped her off hours before.  His answer was that when he got to the house to pick her up, she was still in her pajamas and hadn't washed up.  So he left her there and went back to work.  But here's the thing, he fixes ATM's on site so when he went to work it was over an hour or two away.  Now most people would have just put her pajama clad behind in the car and taken her over to her grandmother's house because it was a promised thing.  But no, not him.  Didn't think like that.

There's not to say that there's not fault to Kay in this.  Although I'm not sure that he even told her what time he would be back for her, hence why she was still in her pjs... When I have to pick Kay up at a certain time I say that I need her dressed by a certain time and when I get there, she is dressed.  We have no problems.  I don't know what if anything he told her but I know she wasn't dressed.

Why does this annoy me so much?  Because my mother went out of her way to get stuff that Kay likes so that she would have a good time and he called her at seven to tell her that it would be eleven before he got to her.  Kay goes to bed on the weekends at eleven.  So she would have had no free time at Mom's because it would have been time for bed as soon as she got there.  He knows this.

Another thing that annoys me is that he has no respect for bedtimes in general.  When he returns them on Sunday night's it's always after nine pm.  Nine  and nine thirty are their bedtimes Sunday through Thursday.  This is not a secret. I say it every week.  We've been doing it so long that the girls actually get tired around these times.  But he repeatedly drops them off around ten.

IT makes me want to scream.  I swear I am reaching my end.

He also, and this is perhaps the most heinous of the things he does just to annoy me, brings her to my house.  The girlfriend.  She still has whatever he beef is with me leftover from when I blasted her on Facebook about not giving a crap about the other children in the household and not even stopping to see if they look okay before dragging them out of the house.  She acts like I'm loosing sleep over her not liking me and I need her to understand it's not my place in the world to like her.  I could probably give a half a rat's ass if she doesn't like me, really. I just want for my girls to be cared for when they are in her care and since they only go over there on the weekends and he works on the weekends, those weekends when she isn't at work, she's caring for my kids.  But since she has this thing, I have requested a few times that he not bring her to my house.  Not even to sit in the driveway.  I have the right to request that.  Yet he continually acts like if he just happens to have her in the car, I'm going to be okay with it.

I can't wait until we go to court for this whole custody thing.  I need to go to court.

What's in a name?

So I didn't really have to think about the N blog too much.  I've been thinking about the topic way to often as of late and figured, it deserved a blog.

Names.

When I pregnant with Olivia, The Dr. told me it looked like a girl.  information that I then sent on to my then husband.  He went to Turkey one night when the ship docked and got a tat on his upper arm of our children's names.  He sent me a picture later and I noticed that he had named our third, yet to be born child Olivia already.  I mean, how much more solid is a childs name than ink in injected into skin?  I told him that the doc wasn't sure if it was a girl and honestly, when he said we needed a kids with vowel name, Olivia was NOT where I was headed.  He then told me that if it was a boy it would be Oliver and he'd get it fixed, and if it wa a girl she would be Olivia.  No if's ans, or buts... from an Ocean away.

I so could have been the petty one and named my daughter Ysabel, or Abigail, or Iolanthe, or any number of names that start with a vowel as well as totally bucking him and going with another consonant like B because deep down I wanted to name my daughter Bronwyn.  It was in a book that I'd just read and I thought it was a good solid, unusual, but still totally awesome name.  But I was a good wife and named my child Olivia.  To be honest, I didn't like the name and further didn't like it when we went to his grandfather's home in NY for his funeral and his children from his second marriage assumed right off the bat that we had named our third child after their mother, Olivia; a woman I had never heard of nor met.  I am embarrassed to say that he made me acquiesce and agree that I had named my child after this woman that I am sure was a good woman just no one I knew anything about other than she married my then husband's grandfather and had a crap load of semi good looking kids with.

But whatever, that's in the past and Olivia is Olivia and she isn't going to change.  You will rarely hear me call her Olivia though.  I stick to Livy and other pet names.  I haven't called her Olivia on the regular ever.  Only when I am upset and trying to get her attention.

So my topic is names.  What possesses a parent to give a child a name?  Family names?  Purpose specific names?  What?

A personal favorite boys name of mine is Sebastian.  Also Nathan.  I don't see me ever putting them together for one child's name so as I see it, I need to have at least two more boys to have my two most coveted names.  I have to have so many more Girls, you'd think I was a Dugger to have all the girls names I like...

An old college buddy named her child Evian.  I asked her how she came up with that considering the trend at the time was to take actual words and turn them backwards for names.  I dared hope she wasn't doing this because Evian backwards is naive.  She outright told me because she liked the water.  I was done.

A girl that I grew up with and who I considered my best friend until middle/high school is named Semajh.  I always, always ALWAYS wondered where her parents got such an inventive name from.  They were Afrocentric, they celebrated Kwanzaa, they did all the stuff that I only read that black people do, I considered them the blackest people I knew at the time and figured the name had African roots.  I was all that more jazzed.   I had a friend with an African name!!  No.  The story I was told, not sure by whom is that they were expecting a boy and when a girl came out, they turned the name James (The name they had settled on) around and added an H.  My bubble burst all sorts of ways.  Don't get me wrong I still thought, do think that Semajh is a totally awesome name.  It's pretty and unique to me but the story behind it, too a little bit of the glitter away from it for me.

Speaking of Unique. I've met at least three women in my lifetime that named their daughters Unique. Okay sure one of them pronounced it "Uni-kay" but it was still Unique.  It seemed it was actually a popular name for a minute there.  My question is this:  If fifteen hundred other girls are named Unique, is the symbolism of the name not lost?

I have had two female friends that named their daughter's Heaven.  One who followed a trend and went with Neveah.  I personally like the backwards version.  I don't have much to say about naming your child Heaven.  Are you trying to say this is where they will go when they die or were you describing the event that created said child?

Precious.  In my experience (and yes I have had experience with this name) most girls who are named this are entitled little shits.  Yes I said it.  They think that because they are named Precious, they are precious.  Naw chickie, you might be precious but you are a precious hot mess.

And what about the moms that name their children Mercedes, Bentley, Porsche, and Royce when they know they should have gone with Yugo, Toyota, Chevy, and Dodge.  And in case you are wondering these too, are names that I have personally come across.  In this case all at one time when I was a photographer.  The mother came in and sat her children down and one by one called out the names and my mouth had to struggle not to drop on the floor.  Why?  I just wanted to ask why?

And this goes back years.  My mother once taught a set of twins named Inowseeallah and Nowiseeallah.  Yes, you read that right.  If you break it up, that was I now see Allah and Now I see Allah.  I can only wonder where those two are now a good thirty years later.

I admire people who do traditional things like name their boys Junior.  My father is a junior.  However in the case of my father, the man he is junior to, is not his father.  We don't know who his father is/was.  Something like that can seriously detriment a child.  Fortunately I don't see it done very often, actually haven't come across it other than my father but I don't understand what would possess my Grandmother to name my father Jr when that man wasn't the father. And after Junior what is next?  III, IV, and V?  That's awesome but after 18 I would change my name from Jr. to II.  It's just a maturity thing to me.

Then we have the Celebrities of today. Gwyneth named her daughter Apple.  Her son is named Moses but back to Apple.  "Because apples are whole and pure." Hmmm...

Beyonce named her daughter Blue Ivy and then went so far as to try and copyright it so no one else could name their child Blue Ivy.  Why in the hell would a sane person name their child Blue Ivy?  There was no need to try and copyright that name...

Courtney Cox named her daughter Coco.  I guess if it was good enough for Coco Chanel, it's good for Coco Cox-Arquette... (I'm a twisted individual and, for some reason I see the Cocoa Puffs bird bouncing up and down saying "I'm Cuckoo for Coco Cox!  I'm Cuckoo for Coco Cox!"  God I'm evil.)

David Duchovny named his child Kyd.  I don't even have a joke for that. I don't... I just... no...

Bono named his daughter Memphis Eve.  Coming from a guy who's name is Bono, is this really a stretch?  Just sayin...

Frank Zappa named his children Moon Unit, Dwezil, and Diva Thin Muffin... Uhm... yeah...

Rob Morrow named his son Tu so that the boys name is Tu Morrow.  Tomorrow... get it?  I want to brak out into a chorus of "The sun'll come out... Tu Morrow! Betcha bottom dollar that Tu Morrow, IT WILL SHINE!!!" But I'm thinking he gets this often.  If he doesn't, I need to start a movement. (Note, even my computer's spell check keeps auto correcting this childs name to tomorrow.)

Jermaine Jackson (The brother of the guy who named his sons Prince Micheal and Blanket (Technically Prince Michael II)) named his child Jermajesty... I really hope that this is a girl.  I really really hope so.  I also hope that she waits until he is a senile old fart and dependant on her and she beats the hell out of him for it.

(BTW, my source for that list save Beyonce was: 20 most bizarre celebrity baby names)

imagine if ANY of those children had gone into politics...

President Apple, Vice President Kyd, Secretary of state Jermajesty... Thank God they will probably want to be stars like Mom and/or dad...

And Lastly, people who names their children after Bible.  It's an inspired idea but here's the thing... the people in the bible are in there because they did great things... well except for Judas and if you name your kid Judas then you have way bigger problems than I can cover in this blog... Do some parents realize that they are setting their child up for either a great destiny or a great fall by naming them Jesus, Noah, Moses... and those are the only names I can come up with off hand that are Male.  The girls had fairly regular names... Mary, Elizabeth...  But come on, Jesus was the savior of the world and the son of God.  What exactly are you hoping your child will do when he grows up?  Be the next Messiah?  Noah built a really big ship and saved all of the animals we know today from drowning.  Are you setting your son up to be a master Shipbuilder? and Moses... well, God spoke through him and brought down an entire civilization with plagues and then split a massive sea in half so another civilization could be free.  I actually have no modern day job to compare that to.  Great Army General?  Biowarfare genius?  Awesome Scout guide?

And while the girls had fairly decent names, there was also Jezabel whose name has come to basically mean tramp and whore. Or Delilah who was a temptress, a traitor and a tease.  Rahab was a dancer.  Way to set her up for a career as a stripper, mom! Sappira is actually quite pretty and I've actually used it as a pen name but she was a woman that hid money from the church and lied to the apostles.  God personally smote her.  Don't think I'll be using that one again...ever. Eve listened to a snake and made a mistake.  I don't think she qualifies as a biblical bad girl but there ya go...

And what if your kid grows up to be a Satanist or Atheist?  "Hi, My name is Jesus and I'm a Satanist..." I don't see that going over well...

(Source: Naughty Biblical Women)

So basically after rambling this long, my point is that people should be careful what they name their children.  You may be trying to say one thing but everyone else might construe it totally different.  A name can either be a destiny path for a child or a huge yolk around their necks.  Think about that when you have an innocent, defenseless newborn in your arms and you are giving them the name that they will be known by during their entire lives and maybe afterwards.  Be kind to your kids.  Do research before you name them...

Do I play my hand or wait...?

So many of you know I tend to talk smack about my ex husband and tell our past on here but I don't usually talk about anything we are going through in the present unless I'm really mad and need to see it in writing before I figure out what to do.  Right now is one of the times of the latter except, I'm not mad, I'm just wondering do I say something now, or do I wait?

I'm going to try for a little back story here but as with my ex and ex family, I'm never sure what what they can find and how they find it so no matter how I safeguard against my writings, I try to keep it at least PG-13 when it comes to him.

In August/early September, I got a letter from Family court saying that my ex was suing me for custody of all three kids.  My son, he already has and he holds onto him like I'm going to sell the boy on the black market if he let's him near me.  His main motivation for wanting the girls is one, that K is overweight, I feed her too much. Two, their hair is always bad. And three they never have any clothes.  Maybe if he takes my reason for living away from me, I will go back to school and make something of myself.

I want to defend here, but honestly, it would be way too long and drawn out.  I would get into personal feelings and probably a few slurs and like I said above, I never know what he/they can find and what he/they can't so let's leave it at that.

I have done everything I was supposed to by the dates that they told me to and as yet, he has not.  I'm covered.  What happens to him is entirely on him.  I do know however that this court case will probably drag on forever until he sends it to the next level and that is not okay.  I think I am going to call Family Court and see if I can get the ball back to rolling because as long as he has this hanging over my head I can't really do anything without someone taking a closer look at me.  Not that it's a bad thing for them to do that but sometimes, I get tired of feeling like I'm under a microscope.  This big black cloud of a court case is hanging right over my head holding a sign that basically says "This woman, right here, is a bad mother."  I need that sign to go away.

I recently had a revelation about my child support payments and after talking to the ex and getting nowhere I decided to play on the hunch and see for myself.  From everything I can figure, everything I thought is correct but the question remains...

Do I play my hand today when he comes to pick up his girls or do I hold onto my hand and play it at a time that is probably going to advantage me the absolute most with the hefty chance that by waiting to play it then, I might screw myself in the bum?

Do you see my conundrum? I can play it and be upfront with him or I can hold it and use it when I think I need it.

His claim is that I never talk to him.  I have about a million things to say about that but I digress.  Could this be constructed as not talking to him?  Could this be like court where I'm holding evidence that could damn him but I didn't share and give him time to correct so it's not in my favor but his?

Life is too freaking complicated for this mess.  Quite honestly, I'm over it.  I can't wait until my youngest is 18.  When she turns 18, I can give it all up and do what I want to do which is be a house sitter.

I know that sounds crazy but I really want to do it.  They get to travel all over the world in some cases and be paid to take care of someone else's house.  I'd get to travel, and all I have to do in return is take in mail, take care of animals, and water plants, maybe clean up after myself.  I could do that.

I always say that if anything happens to my mother I'm not staying in NC.  I probably would until my kids were all 18 for the sheer reason of the ex would have no reason whatsoever to follow me to whatever destination I choose to be closer to his kids.  When they are 18, he can go where they are if he chooses, because where they are is not necessarily where I will be.

I just need to be done with this.  I need to be done with him.  I need to be done with trying to coordinate meet-ups, and appointments, I need for him to go back to New Mexico.  I honestly wish to hell that I had never helped facilitate his move to NC because it has been nothing except heartache and distress for me.  I'm over having to change my schedule to suit him because he pays the child support.  It dawned on my the other day that because I don't currently have a job, he expects me to be his calendar as well as drop everything I am doing to bring the kids to him.  This morning he asked me point blank "Are you going to bring them to me or do I have to come get them?"

This is going to be the real personal part of my post but do you know how badly I wanted to say, "Negro what the hell do you think?  You live past downtown!  I am not getting caught in that traffic.  YOU get caught in it and sit there. And sit there.  And sit there."

Since our divorce, I have had to cancel two meetings with people because he was late or decided to inform me at the last second he wasn't coming.  I'm tired of having to rearrange my life.

I have some thinking to do.  I have about two hours to decide if I want to play regular poker or Texas Hold'em with my info.  We shall see.

Mmmm Mmmmm MMmmm

So if you have ever listened to Weird Al Yankovic, then you know where the title of this blog comes from.  When I think of M, his song...

So I've been absent for a good minute from the alphabet blog...  I actually could consider my last blog Manless part of the Alphabet blog and call that M but tonight I think I have a good topic.

Let's talk about manners.

When I was a child, I spoke to my mother in a manner befitting the fact that I was a child and she was the adult.  In fact I spoke to all adults in the manner.  Even when I was so mad I could scream and shout and throw worlds biggest temper tantrum, I still spoke to them with the respect their age granted them.  That was how I was raised.

I don't find that this is the case now.  Children today speak to adults in such a manner that I wonder how they are still standing where they are.  Some of these kids... Man my mother would have slapped them in the next week and would be waiting there to slap them back again.  It'd be like watching a game of Pong, this week, last week, this week, last week...

I was in the store the other day and a mom was calling her little boy.  She kept screaming for him over and over.  First of all my kids know that if I have to call you more than twice, your butt is roadkill anyway.  You don't ignore mom.  The fact that this woman was in Wal-Mart screaming for her son, who turned out to be about ten and she called him a total of ten times before he even acknowledged her was a little too much for me.  When he finally did acknowledge his mother, his response was, "Will you leave me the hell alone? I'm lookin' at something!"

Does that little boy know how lucky he is that he wasn't my child????  Forgetting the fact that she called him ten times, he cussed at her AND told her to leave him alone.  If she had decided to slap the little shit across the store I would have gladly kicked him back to her so she could do it again and again.  We could have played a nice little game of soccer.  OMG! And the mom, who sadly fit every stereotype of white mothers. Come on, I'm not offending anyone here.  Throughout time there has been a distinct difference in the way white women mother and the way black women mother.  A black mother would have knocked every tooth in the boys head out.  Some white mothers would have yelled and screamed, some white mothers would have walked away, and yet still some white mothers would do with this woman did and say, "Okay but hurry up."  It was at this point that I wanted to smack the mother.

I'm not a non violent person sometimes.  I mean I don't try to be.  I would have mini strokes fifty times a day if I did try to be or think non violent thoughts all the time.  All I can say to my defense is at least I only think my violent thoughts.  I haven't actually voiced them in a few weeks since I told a woman (in wal-mart, no less) that if she didn't stop waving her hand like she was dismissing me that I would snatch her bald.  *Picture old television shows where the snooty rich person was trying to tell the help they were dismissed they would do that palm facing down go away wave with their fingertips.  This woman was doing that to me and another black man. I told her if she waved her bright yellow nails at me one more again (Yes I said that) I would snatch the hair off her head.*

Back to the woman at hand. This woman stood there for a good five minutes before she realized that the three other women in the aisle besides me were looking at her like she was stupid as hell. Then she politely announced to the boy that she was leaving and if he wasn't in the car when she left he'd be sorry and she walked away.  The boy, perhaps meaning to say it after she walked away or maybe he was actually sucky at snappy comebacks said, "Whatever. Bye!"

It was at this point I left. I just left.

And Children aren't the only ones being rude.  Since I have been down here I have faced the worst kind of Racism there is... Elderly racism.

Thanks to the Paula Dean fiasco, we are ALL aware that today's elderly generation grew up calling black people n!%%ers and coons.  It was socially acceptable back when they were young.  They did not all get the memo that times have changed and that they can have the tar beat out of them for saying that now.  And while I have been racially slurred by elderly people in the past nothing gets me more than when an elderly person says "Oh you can let me go ahead of you, you're young, and I've earned my way to the front of the line."

I kid you not, this has actually been said to me on more than one occasion by someone who is NOT family.  I mean seriously??! WTF?  Ask me if you can go ahead of me, don't tell me that deserve to go ahead of me!

Those of you that know me on Facebook know that I had an encounter with a woman (In walmart) where she had a cartful of things and I had three things and when the cashier finished ringing her purchases the woman turned to me and told me that not letting me go ahead of her in line should teach me a lesson about expecting people to let me skip line because I only had a few things.  Keep in mind that I never in any way intimated that I wanted to go ahead of her.  Nothing came out of my mouth, nothing was communicated from my eyes, or my stance that I know of.  Maybe I'm very talkative in body motions.

Being my mother's child, I have a very low tolerance for rude people no matter the age.  My grandmother raised her that way and she raised me that way.  My Great Grandmother probably didn't have to raise my grandmother to respect her elders because way back then, nobody blinked an eye when someone smacked their kid across the room.  Didn't matter what they did.  If they got a smack, they deserved it.... usually.

Ugh.  What are your thoughts on manners? I'm curious..

Going to vote was a TOTAL waste of my time...

So I went to vote today and let me say, it was a complete waste of my time.  And I don't mean to imply that my vote counted for nothing, I am SAYING it loud and clear.

Just found out that I live in the county not the City of Charlotte.  Well, I kinda knew that because of the trash pick up and all but get this...  I can't vote for city council or mayor because I am only a county resident.  I was only able to vote on school board for my district and two money referendums.  I'm not kidding.  My ballot had three effing questions on it and when I cast (Guessed) at those three questions, it politely said thank you and I was finished.

So I called the lady who was monitoring the booths over and asked her why I hadn't been asked about mayor and whatnot, and that's when she told me, I'm not allowed to vote for the mayor or the city council.

I have to live with the choices that the residents of the city make but I'm not allowed to have any input in it.

This, right here is why people don't vote.  People are always squawking in my ear that voting counts.  It may not be the first vote and it may not be the last vote but it counts.  Go do your civic duty, go cast your ballot and when you finally give in and go out with the mentality that you are going to help, you are going to do the right thing, someone then tells you that you aren't allowed to vote????

Sorry but fuck that!  In order to vote for the mayor or the city council that will pass laws and govern the way I live here, I have to move my home?  But if I choose not to move my home to the actual city, I have to live with the choices that the city dwellers made for me???

I'm kinda pissed.  I should not blog when I'm pissed, but I'm fucking pissed off.  That made no freaking sense at all...

I will survive!!

Sing to the 'I Will Survive' Parody


At first I was afraid, I was petrified!
When you said you had 10 inches, Lord I almost died,
But I'd spent oh so many years just waiting for a man that long, That I grew strong,
And I knew that I could take you on. . .



But there you are, Another lie!
I was ready for a big mac and you've bought me a French fry,
I should have known that it was bullshit,
Just a sad pathetic dream,
Should have known there was no anaconda lurking in those jeans.



Go on now go! Walk out the door!
Don't you promise me 10 inches then turn up with only 4,
Weren't you a prat to think I wouldn't catch you out,
Don't you know we' re only joking when we say size doesn't count.


(Chorus)
I will survive, I will survive!
Cos as long as I have batteries,
My sex life is gonna thrive,
I will always have good sex with a handful of latex,
I will survive, I will survive. . . hey . . .

hey!

It took all my self control not to laugh out loud,
When I saw your little weiner standing tall and proud,
But to hell with all your ego's and to hell with all your needs,
Now I'm saving all my lovin for a cordless multi speed,
Go on now go! Just make a dash,
Last time I saw a p***k that small was watching Gladstone run Unclad hash,
I should have asked for confirmation,
Should have asked for referees,
Then I wouldn't have you waving that wee winky thing at me

Go on now go! Just hit the track,
Don't you bring me home no tiddlers, Cos I'll only throw them back,
The only thing that I could do with a p***k as small as yours,
Is to stick it with a tooth pick
Dip it in tomato sauce

(Chorus)
Go on now go! Get out of my sight,
I'm going back to my appliance,
Cos I know it's length is right,
And if I ever see your tiny tockley at my door,
You'll be counting up your inches as you pick them off the floor.

Manless

So recently, while playing the sims and making an AI me a very happy woman by marrying and having a happy life and big family, I decided that I am more than happy with my AI self created man.  More so than I think I would be with a real man.

I don't understand men at all.  Just like they say they don't understand women, I don't understand them.  I kinda understand my ex husband but I think that it more familiarity with his routines and thought patterns than with him as a man.  If I lived with anyone for almost ten year like I did with him, I would know them almost inside and out as well.  So no, not as a man, just as a person.

I have realized that the male population of Charlotte, NC perceives something wrong with me.  Maybe I talk too much or maybe I don't talk enough.  Maybe I'm too fat for them, maybe I'm too black for them.  I don't know and frankly, right now... I don't care.

One, I will always be a little or significantly overweight. I do not come from a family of thin or even slightly overweight women.  Every single woman on my moms side and those we know on my father's side had a little more weight than people with medical degrees deem healthy.  To that, I just want to point out to no one in particular, the women in my family tend to live very long lives so our weight and lack of twigness is NOT a hinderance to anyone in the Foriest or the Wilson family.  The only way I will ever be one of those anorexic, malnourished stick figures that guys drool over now is with extreme plastic surgery and or liposuction and I don't want either.  I like looking like I know how to throw down in a kitchen.

As for the second, me talking... I don't have a lot of experience talking to men.  I can talk online, I can text, but I cannot talk on the phone or in person for hours on end.  I cannot talk about myself like some of these vapid females out here.  I don't understand how men can sit and listen to a girl talk about every single little thing in her life.  I am personally much more comfortable listening.  Not just to guys.  I just prefer to listen.  I always have.  When guys make me talk about myself, I stumble and stammer and find myself at a loss for words because I have nothing to say about myself.  Now give me a good topic to debate on and I can talk up a storm.  Ask me about baking, I can talk your ear off.  Music, books, writing, jewelry making I can talk about.  Ask me to talk about myself and we have a problem so if that's what men are judging me by, screw that.  I might as well accept singlehood forever cause I will never be one of those girls.

I have found that some guys think that my closeness to my mother is a problem.  We are closer than a lot of mothers and daughters but one thing that guys need to understand, is that aside from my kids, my mother and my father are all I have left.  My mother raised me by herself from the time I was six years old.  She is my hero and I would love to be just like her in some senses. She and my kids usually are the most prominent things on my mind.  Give me a reason to put your on that list.  Don't just assume that there's no way you'd make that list.

I've had something with a total of four men here in Charlotte.  The first was a total flake.  He had looks going for him and absolutely nothing else.  The second didn't have looks but he had conversation.  He literally had me walking on clouds by just talking to me.  He unfortunately screwed everything when he expected me to come to his house for a quickie and lunch before I really knew him like that.  The third guy here had a kind of trifecta.  He had looks, he liked to play rock band, and he was good in bed.  Unfortunately, he assumed that all I wanted from him was sex.  Again, talk to me, try to get to know me.  The fourth guy here I had less than anything with him.  I played my hand at the wrong time and stupidly let him know I liked him.  Like all men, he put that to his advantage and tested it.  I failed miserably for reasons that he never disclosed, really, and I made the choice to stop texting him because I had developed a crush and crushes are dangerous.  They give people power over you and when they simply aren't interested it only hurts more.  Mostly because you start to sit and examine yourself what could possibly be so wrong with you, that he won't even take a chance.

There is nothing wrong with me.  That is not saying that there is something wrong with the men around here, just that there is nothing wrong with me.

I have all the qualities that I admire in women:

1. I am a kickass mother.  My children regularly brag about me.  Yes I have a big head about it because I know that I am loved and that I have done something in the eyes of my children to deserve that.

2. I am a good daughter.  If my mother were to say that she wanted me to drop everything and be there, I may question why and maybe offer a solution that doesn't involve me running across town, but if she needed me, I would and am there in a heartbeat.

3. I am a moderately good Christian.  Yes, I cuss like a sailor when provoked and I ca hold a grudge like an old woman but I can also let go of it and pray for you.  There's no hands like God's hands and if I put my troubles in his hands, he will take them away.

4. I feel like I am a good friend.  I have friends that do nothing but call me to tell me about the shit in their lives and I listen.  I may or may not offer solutions but I listen.  When they finish venting on me they feel better.  I have friends that like me for me.  What they see I have no idea but they like me for me.  So I must be doing something right.

5. I am strong.  I have been through a lot and I'm still standing on my own two feet.  Yes, I have been committed once almost twice but I'm here and I'm doing my thing. Without behavioral drugs.  I have dealt with a person I promised to love before God cheating on me and hurting me in ways no one can imagine.  I have dealt with being raped, I have dealt with a child that treated me the way his father treated me, I have dealt with girlfriends of said ex that think I am inferior to them because the man they are sleeping with didn't want me. (insert Toni Braxton moment here... "Trick don't you know I had your man?  He wasn't man enough for me")  I have faced near death moments and looked my own end in the eye several times.  While I didn't laugh in the face of death, I did walk away stronger than I was when I stepped in front of him.

So if you don't feel like your time is well spent getting to know a woman that would more than likely be good for you, I really don't care anymore.  As far as I am concerned it is the loss of every guy out there that thinks I'm not worth it.  And I am better off without the drama of trying to prove I'm worth it.

So to that end I have officially stopped looking.  I have officially stopped expecting.  I have stopped hoping.  And I have stopped wanting it.

For years I promised myself... I won't turn 30 without being in a relationship... I won't let this Christmas pass without being in a relationship, I won't celebrate New Years without someone to kiss, I won't celebrate Valentine's Day without someone, I won't turn 31 without someone... I won't turn 32... 33...34...  35 is coming and I think I might save up and treat myself to a vacation by myself.  I will learn the most important thing a single female should know:  How to be okay by herself.

No more asking friends to set me up, no more thinking that the guy that smiled at me in food lion might want to talk to me, no more.

Just No more.

Live, Love, Laugh, Let's talk about L!

So I know I've been absent from this blog for awhile but I have really good excuses this time I promise.  None of which matter but for the record, they are really really good.  Plus, I believe that if people want to read what you write, they will be okay with you taking breaks as long as you come back before the interest completely dies away.

So anyway, I've been thinking about the L blog for a long time and everytime I thought I had a topic that I could BS on for over a thousand characters I kept coming back to the L word that is quite literally on my mind always.  Love.

Every now and then I have to put a disclaimer in my blog.  I have to cover myself so here is a blanket disclaimer:

Now whether or not the current object of my probably unfounded attraction is among my readers or not is not of my concern.  He is aware that I like him.  He is aware that I am as confused by that attraction as anyone could be. He is also aware that based on the fact that it is clear that he doesn't feel the same about me that I can't seem to shake said crush. So honestly, if by some glory of God he wanted a deeper look into the jumble that is my psyche and read my blog he cannot be surprised at what he finds because he was and is the only guy that I have ever laid myself before as an open book.  The only thing I will never say here is his name because I respect him more.  THAT BEING SAID NOTHING I SAY IS ABOUT HIM OR IN REFERENCE TO HIM...


If you know me you know I'm telling the truth when I say it's on my mind all the time.  Yes I do have other interests and do occasionally think about other things and other people but for the most part the topic of Love is always there.  In the forefront, in the background, hanging off to the side biding it's time until it can make one of those blazing returns to the front of my brain.  It's always there.  It's my constant companion and for better or worse (usually worse) it's become the voice in my head. And it sound A LOT like Meredith Grey-Shepperd from Grey's Anatomy.

Wikipedia defines Love as:

The English word "love" can refer to a variety of different feelings, states, and attitudes that ranges from interpersonal affection ("I love my mother") to pleasure ("I loved that meal"). It can refer to an emotion of a strong attraction and personal attachment.^[1] It can also be a virtue representing human kindness, compassion, and affection—"the unselfish loyal and benevolent concern for the good of another".^[2] As well, it may describe compassionate and affectionate actions towards other humans, one's self or animals.

I can't argue with them.  I don't know what love is.  Aside from loving my children and my mother and my family, I do not know what love is.

I love fried chicken.
I love writing and making jewelry.
I love laying in my bed and soaking up all the warmth it has to offer me.

But I have a feeling that's not the kind of Love people are talking about.

I had a friend once tell me their definition of love.  And I asked them because they are in a committed marriage of ten plus years.  By that person, Love was defined as:

"You live and die for that person.  Your first thought in the morning is of them, your last thought at night is of them.  If you had to choose between living life while they die or letting them live at the extent of your own life, you'd die in a heartbeat.  Without the other, you aren't anything..."

To tell the truth, it was at this point that I began to hear blah blah blah, ramble, ramble, ramble, mush, mush...  I had the feeling that she was overdramatizing something that was in reality much simpler and way less sickening in real life.

For the first, I personally live and would happily die for my children. And this is not because I have no romance in my life.  My first thought in the morning is unfortunately not of my children in pretty terms.  It is usually something like "Why are they poking me in the face?"  My final thought of the night is usually how much I love my bed.  If I had to choose between keeping my life and watching a man die, I may make a plea to take my life for theirs but I'm a spoiled selfish only child who would probably just plead not to kill them.  I'm pretty sure I would never say take me not him.  Sorry boo, whoever you are I understand that I seem like a total shit right now but chances are that you knew that when you started dating/married me.  I would however give my life for my children.  I love them.  And that last part, with him, I'm not anything???  Seriously??  I don't have them now so does that mean I'm nothing now?  Wow... I'm nothing.  Nothing sure does feel like a solid slightly overweight black woman that it's severe pain because she's sitting in a chair instead lying down like the doctor told her to.

I was married.  I was not in love with my husband.  I was in love with being married.  I stayed because on a really effed up plane of existence, he offered me a sense of security.  He was the father of my children, he was the provider of my home, he was the one I had promised before God and 17 people to  honor, cherish and a couple other things.  If loving him was supposed to be anything like what my friend described, not, I wasn't in love with him.

Thanks to romance novels that I have been reading since I was about 14 years old, I had some ideas on what I'd like love to be.

In romance novels, the hero and the heroine always meet by chance.  It is attraction at first sight.  I'll give them this.  Or rather, I will give them the attraction part.

There is always always, Always a conflict that keeps them apart.  Okay but usually the conflict isn't as legendary as it is in the book.

You should always trust the oldest person that give you advice. DEBUNK!!!  I call the flag on this one!  No details given but I'm calling the BS flag here.

If you love the other person, sex will always be amazing.  Even if he has you up against a wall after you've worked all day, he's now ripped your last pair of good stockings to hell and there's a picture frame gauging you in the back. It will be amazing.  I could wish this on a thousand stars but I'm pretty sure that when I find my doofus in tin foil we're going to have a couple of kinda bad off sync sex.  Nobody gets it right every time.

Everything is happy in the end. Not even going to dignify that with a smart aleck wisecrack.

So, being the person that I am, I have taken the ideals from purely fictional romance novels and real life and formed my own opinions of what love is.

1. People who love each other must first like each other.  That whole thing of "We hated each other at first" I'm sorry, but if I hate someone I am so not going to hang around them long enough to see the other side of the coin.  Why do that to myself?  I obviously have a good reason for not liking them and I honestly can't see that one day I would like to grow old with them.

2. People who are in love must want to be together.  Not all the time.  No one can be with another person 24/7 and not want to go just a teeny bit insane.  If I had to stare at someone day in and day out and never get a few hours to myself every now and then I'd be sitting in a corner babbling to myself.  Freaking, go watch a football game for an entire Sunday or something!  Gah!!

3. People who are in love understand that sometimes you have to be different to be a match.  After all, two identical puzzle pieces never fit together. One piece has to have a give so the other can take.

4.  There are no perfect couples.  If you think you are perfect together and there are no problems, no arguments, no conflict whatsoever, you are a fictional, probably Disney character and you should see serious help for not only your relationship problems but also the fact that you are an animated character that thinks they are real.

As I believe that Love is ever changing, right now, that's all I got.  I don't much about love, but I know what I want.  I know that I call the man I'm meant to have any future with a doofus in tin foil but maybe I'm his nerd in nylons, his geek in glasses, his slob in silk, or his bookworm in brocade.  I'm not trying to be his princess in pearls.

As always I welcome comments.  If you have something to share, please share it here.  I will try to answer if it warrants a comment.  Please understand that this blog is public so watch your language.  Also understand that two things will happen if you choose to ignore that last request.  One, you will look like the buffoon, not me and if it offends anyone it's running the chance of being deleted.

K...K...K...K....

THIS BLOG IS ALL ADULT.  IF YOU DO NOT WANT  TO READ ABOUT SEXUAL RELATED THINGS, STOP HERE!  YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!  DO NOT COME AT ME IN ANY WAY IF YOU ARE GROSSED OUT, TURNED OFF, OR FREAKED OUT!!  YOU HAVE BEEN PROPERLY WARNED!!

I know I've done the fiery letter before but considering the choices I was given for K and the one I chose, I think the fire kinda fits...

So I thought about it and I chose Kinky stuff I'd like to do... Or rather just kinky stuff.

So about a month ago I had a friend over my house and while sitting in my bedroom, he held up the handcuffs that are hanging on my bedpost and wiggled his eyebrows.  I had the good graces to look guilty... I think...

I'm not really guilty but being caught with handcuffs kinda sends a message that one is into some kinky shit.  I mean if I walked into someone's house/ room and they had a leather swing hanging from the ceiling, whips adorning the wall, Erotic pictures, and red light lamps everywhere I don't know about you but I would assume that the person that lived there just might be a little kinky.  Just a little bit.

Me personally, I'll tell you up front, I'm not a little bit kinky.  Dammit I'm a lot kinky.  That whole fifty shades thing, Half of that, I have done, would do, or wish I could do.  PSA: Those balls that Anna had to walk around with... NO.  Just no.  No.

That's not saying I want to tar whipped out of me while I'm with a man.  Spanking, yes,  A little harder than most women probably like it (And I cannot speak for most women) yeah.  I like to hear the hand hitting the bottom.  I like to feel the sting.

You already know I have handcuffs.  If I had bed posts and the ability to tie someone up or be tied up (Or a man to do the tying/be tied) would I tie/be tied?  Hell to yeah!  I personally think that not being able to retreat from the hopefully intense feelings your partner is giving you is awesome.  I'm a runner.  If I can't run from the feelings, I have to feel them all.

I also like blindfolds...  In the area of sex, I am jealous of visually impaired people.  To be unable to focus on anything but the bright lights exploding behind your eyes when you jump over that cliff into oblivion.... mmmhmmm.

What else kinky?

I would like to try a swing.  I look at the sex swings and thanks to very unfortunate web surfing, I know for a fact that women heavier than me have been in one so I would have no problem being in one.  My fears that I would fall out of or off of one have now been assuaged. Whether or not I'm going to be comfortable in one is up the guy in front of the swing... or in back...

The ball gag.  I have not tried one and have no desire to do so.  Being restrained is one thing, not being about to make a real sound.  No.  You can keep your ball gag.

Threesomes.  Manage a trios.  I'm not going to say if I've been in one or if I want to be in one.  That's one of those little mysteries that you might work out for yourself.  Being with two other people is an intriguing idea.  But with that, I don't think I'd recommend any bondage. I also don't think I would recommend the blindfold in this situation.

My mother always told me that a man wants a freak in the bed and a lady in the streets.  I'm pretty sure that this ideal has been lost on today's men.  Men today want a ride or die chick.  She's freak nasty in the bed, on the corner, in the car, on the balcony and the beach and that's a whole new kind of kinky.  That's walking kinky.

Public sex is kinky as well.  At least in my book.  It's kinky and intriguing.  I think it's the element of possibly getting caught in the act that heightens the pleasure.  The fact that someone could walk around the corner and be shocked by the sight of two bodies grinding together in ecstasy not hearing or seeing the world around them alone is enough to make you want to throw caution to the wind.

What I don't think is kinky, cool, or acceptable, is leaving marks on another's skin.  THIS DOES NOT INCLUDE HICKIES.  I'm talking about the cuffs or ropes were so tight against the straining skin that there are now black and blue marks.  If you were doing asphyxiation during sex and you now have a rope burn around your neck, not cool.  Not kinky.  Really getting into it and you're smacking my ass is awesome but me waking up with your palm print across my butt cheek, no.  Whips can be kinky cool but drawing blood with them... no.

There are a lot of things that fall in the kinky category.  A lot of which I haven't covered here.  A lot that I don't even know about.

As always, I welcome comments.  If you would like tell me your definition of kinky, maybe give some examples?

Ciao!