Holla Back

Today starts the beginning of my Labor Day Vacation. I'm headed to the Windy City (Chicago for those of you that aren't hip to slang), my hometown, to visit my friends and family for 5 days. So, I won't be checking emails or blogs.

With that being said...

Have a wonderful and safe holiday. I'll be back to blog and read blogs next week...

Until then...

Smooches :)

Visits & Wardrobe Malfunctions

First, I want to give a shout out to Missy, Skinny G and Robert Mack for a fun-filled weekend.

Yes.

You read correctly. Robert Mack was in the Bean this weekend to kick it with the Boston Bloggers. Pictures should be up on his page or Missy's. You'll see that I haven't quite unpacked all the boxes in my house.

We keep secrets well don't we? :)

Saturday

Robert made it in that afternoon around 1...had a little trouble at the airport, so we didn't make it back to my house until close to 3. We had dinner plans set for 7, a gay co-worker of mines party to attend, and a planned on going to the club Missy and Skinny G got to my house about 7:30...Well, Missy was early, but Skinny decided to watch some chick dance on top of a car in Grove Hall making him an half an hour late. We went to one of my favorite restaurants in South End, Stella's. I absolutely love that place. The service is wonderful. We were the only black people in there, but you wouldn't have felt out of place at all. Even though it was about 65 degrees we ate on the patio. They have these huge heat lamps on and they provide you with blankets. Besides, 65 in Boston isn't as cold as it sounds. Dinner was good and filled with lively conversation. The celebrity that Skinny is, he knew about 5 people that were just randomly walking down the street....and people think that I know everyone...

After dinner we walked over 2 blocks to my co-workers party. Mind you, he's a gay 27 year old Italian guy. So, I knew this would be interesting. I had to go because he practically begged me to stop by and that's just what we did. Had a few drinks and bounced. I must admit that I LOVE partying with gay men. They were all over me and Missy...telling us how beautiful we are. Missy even had one guy strapping up her sandels and asking her where she got her jeans...LOL! Gotta love it.

After we left there we headed downtown to Vertigo. Vertigo is this 2 level club or rather a club with a first floor and a basement. The first floor spins R&B, Hip-Hop and Reggatone. The basement is where all the real dancing takes place. We pay our $15 to get in and automatically get some drinks. I must say, Robert is a non-stop dancer. He was amped. I'm talking, doing that same ole 2 step 2 steps before the beat...LOL! Next thing I know, I look around and Robert and Missy disappear downstairs to get their dance and drink on. I have no idea what happened down there cuz me and Skinny, we just posted up and sipped upstairs. I'll let Robert and Missy tell what shenanigans took place in the sweat box downstairs.

So, toward the end of the night and 2 drinks later I decide to go to the bathroom. I had on white gaucho's that zip in the back. Robert already had to help me zip them when I was getting dressed. Get your minds out the gutter! Anyway. So, I knew that I had to be extra careful when I went to the bathroom. All this junk in the trunk is sometimes hard to handle. By the time I went to the bathroom at Vertigo I was on my 7th drink. (I had 3 cantalope martine's at Stella's, a lemonade concoction and a blueberry martini at the gay party and 2 grey goose and pineapples at Vertigo). So, all guacho zipping logic went right out the window. Evidently, I didn't unzip my pants all the way down when I went to do the do, so when I went to pull them back up all I heard was R-I-P. Immediately, I start praying to God that I didn't bust my pants. Not only did I bust the zipper, I split the pants down the crack of my ass...LOL!

Hee-Fucking-Larious.

Missy so happened to be in the bathroom, so I tell her we got to go. This party animal tells me to just go sit down. WTF! LOL! Finally, she relents and tells me that she's going to find Robert who is evidently in the sea of people getting his groove on. So, I run upstairs...carefully, to tell Skinny what happened. He laughs and tells me to sit down. He's going down to find them. Yeah. Right. How in the hell is everyone leaving me sitting while they go find each other? Bullshit. A conspiracy. Luckily, this dude starts talking to me to make the 15 minutes they left me sitting there go by fast...LOL! It was a sight to see me and Skinny walking down the street. I had to hold my pants up or else they would fall, but they were split so far down that Skinny had to walk behind me to hold them to together, so my ass wouldn't be hanging out. Here is a picture of us at the elevator of the garage we parked at after my wardrobe malfunction...LOL! You see Skinny looking at my butt! Perv!



All in all it was a good time had by all, so no biggie about the split. Those are my favorite pants, though. So, I'm taking them to the cleaners to get fixed.

Sunday

It rained all day. I had planned on taking Robert to Fenway to do the tour, but Mother Nature decied against that. Me, Missy and Robert went to brunch at Mike's Diner. The food was the best. Although, we had to wait in line for like 30 minutes...Damn. Thanks Robert!

After that we just chilled out and relaxed...took naps. Tried to sleep off hangovers and full stomachs. You know how *Africans* get that itis... The rain basically put a dent in a otherwise relaxing Sunday.

It was a good weekend and I'm glad Robert flew up here to hang out. I'm also glad that Missy and Skinny were able to make it. Guys, you were good sports at the Gay party...LOL! Thanks for going with me.

Until the next time.

Smooches :)

Fuked Wit No Vaseline...

That's how it feels when I think about how long it's going to take me to pay off my student loans!

They have been in forebearance for the last few years. I know. I'm slick like that. I did pay them for a year before going the forebearance route. Anyway, I have to own up to them come October...that's my first payment. My interest rate is fairly low at 2.8. So, I can't complain about that.

My complaint is this: I'm not making enough money to quickly and smartly pay off these loans. What I mean by smartly is not taking some stupid option like interest only payments for 2 years and then half interest, half prinicple for 23 more years. It seems like that's the only way to make my huge ass loans affordable! I can't afford a $300 - $400 payment a month for loans on top of all my other bills and the lifestyle I'm accustomed to. You feel me? I know some of you are probably thinking...sacrifice...stop putting your clothes in the cleaners...you don't HAVE to get you hair, nails, feet and eye brows done every 2 weeks or fly back and forth to Miami and Chicago or whatever country is calling your name. YES I DO!

I sacrificied when I was in college working full-time and going to school full-time. When all I could afford was to do my own hair and go to Great Clips to keep my ends in tack or go to the campus ghetto stylist for a Straw Set. I'm not even going to think about the non-exsistent pedi and manis I didn't get. I survived off of refund checks. I'll be damned if I'm working over 40 hours a week, paying taxes, putting money in my 401K and other investment vehicles, paying high azz rent, living in Boston (which is a sacrifice in and of itself) not to be able to enjoy myself and live life to the fullest. So, I guess I'm stuck taking that dumb ass option to save a few bucks.

I shudder at the amount of debt I am going to accrue once I start grad school. That's about $120K by itself. Yeah. I'm trying to go to a top school in 2008. That's an entirely different post. I'll share all of that at a later date as the process begins. Pray for me....I digress.

Basically, all I'm saying is this: I need some more damn money!

Smooches :)

Happy Belated Blog Anniversary To Me...

I'm such a scatterbrain. I completely let my Anniversary pass me by. LOL! Why didn't you guys remind me? Dang. I would have reminded you (((rolling my eyes)))

A year ago, August 17, 2005, I started this blog. I started this blog on the advice of Conscious 1. Shout out to him! He told me I would make a good blogger. He probably doesn't even remember the conversation, but I do. Im glad he gave me the advice. I have met some really wonderful people through this vehicle of communication. It has also helped me keep in touch with people that I know, but are sometimes to busy to call or hang out with.

I use this blog as a source of relief. A way to get perspectives from people that don't know me from Adam. When I'm having a bad day and mad at someone, you guys never let me down...You always take my side :) No seriously, this place is my sounding board and sometimes I don't know what I would do with out it.

Thanks for reading and I hope you continue to do so because I plan to continue writting...

Smooches :)

My Body, My Choice VS. His Wallet, His Choice....

I ran across this article," POINT: The Difference Between a Womb and a Wallet", and thought it would be interesting to share. Click on the link and check it out.

I must admit that under the circumstances described, I kind of agree with the man or at least sympathize with his plight. No one wants a to be responsible for a baby that they were tricked into having. I equate this to a woman that's raped. She shouldn't be forced to give birth to her assailant's child. And, in his case, I don't think he should have to be because she said that she was sterile and couldn't get pregnant. That was a major lie used to get the man to sleep with her unprotected. A set-up of sorts. So, now he has to take $500 out his check to basically support the woman because no baby costs that much to clothe and feed.

I know I may sound harsh, but some women are grimey like that and will stop at nothing to have a child...especially a baby with "Good Hair"! LOL! Stupid chicks. Back in the day, I ran across and was friends with a lot of chicks that lied and said they were pregnant just to get abortion money or lied and said they were on birth control just to trap a "Baller". Dumb shit. When do these bitches have to take responsiblity for their actions? I'm sick of seeing and hearing of crap like this.

Don't get me wrong, I believe that men should pay child support if they lay down and have sex resulting in a pregnancy. Mind you, I don't get a dime from my daughters father. Deadbeat dad at his finest. SO, I'm all for making *Africans* pay. But, there is an exception to every rule. I can't just jump on the bandwagon because a chick is at the wheel.

Of course dude in the article is screwed if the paternity test proves he's the father. It's her word against his about whether or not she said she was sterile.

Manlaw contributers, I hope you guys are reading this. Add this to the rules of ManLaw: Get Proof!

Smooches :)

Too Much, Too Soon...

They say that we shouldn't blame the next person for the last person's mistakes. You shouldn't go into every relationship thinking that person will do you like the last. You're suppose to let go of past hurts and problems and be free to love again...or at least like again? But, what happems when you do that and it all blows up in your face?

Am I naive to believe that there is someone out there for me? Am I naive to trust people and let people prove who they are instead labeling them off the past? Is there no such thing as a fairy tale? How many frogs do I have to kiss to find my Prince Charming?

Is there a such thing as giving too much, too soon? Shouldn't you give all that you have? I was always told that you get what you give. If you keep your hand closed, nothing can go out and nothing can come in. Does that also apply to the heart? What if you open your heart, but you keep getting bullshit? How do you filter that out? How does one tell a wolf in sheep's clothing?

Maybe it's me...that IS the common denominator...right?

Just thought I'd ask...

Brief Intermission...

Hey Peeps! I have been busy doing this thing called life. I have a lot to talk about. Skinny's party...Good times and wonderful people. Shouts out to Missy, BZ, Con 1 and the Birthday Boy, SP! I have been out of the office at a conference. Of course, I have a story about that. So, I'm just getting back in the office trying to catch up on over 100 emails and projects I left hanging to attend this conference.

While I get my life back on track check out this Blog entitled: Black People's Money. This blog deals with a lot of issues surrounding Black People and their money, investments and financial futures. I think you guys would enjoy it.

Recently, Richard Prince, a featured columnist at the Maynard Institute for Journalism Education, wrote a blurb on the the blog and it's author. It went something like this: " Keith Reed, business reporter for the Boston Globe, started a blog this month, "Black People's Money," described as "a forum for discussing the financial dreams, means and schemes of the black and aspiring." Reed is also a freelance writer for Black Enterprise and Essence magazines and a contributing editor for Heart & Soul magazine. "

Check out the entire column here.

Enjoy!

Smooches :)

What in Tarnation...

...Is this foolery we call Flavor of Love?!

I don't even know where to start my rant. Seriously. This was the worst shit ever...no pun intended. I could barely watch, but I couldn't turn away. A guilty pleasure.

This season is going to be the worst thing I have ever seen. Where did they do they're casting calls? In the Projects? Jail? On the local Prostitue Row? This shit is ridiculous. But, I can't wait for the next episode. LOL! Does that make me just as bad?

All them women look like they stink. Well we know one does. ...

How does a person shit on the floor? She literally bent down, pooped and then ran up the stairs dropping shit along the way. Then, she wasn't even embarrased! I would have lived in that bathroom afraid to show my face again. Now, I have experienced bad stomach problems, but I was still able to run to the bathroom. We're adults! Not children!

Am I the only one confused by Buckwild? I don't know if I should be pissed at her obvious attempts to be black or like her because she has an infectious personality. She may stick around for awhile because Flav seems to like her.

What's with all the lesbians?

Is it me or does everyone seem a little off? Especially, Spunkee. That's one conniving chick. She looks like she does voodoo in her spare time. She was amping the hell out of Somethin (Shitty Mess).

Well, next week looks like it's going to be a stripper fest for the rappers. I can't believe Flave is pimping them chicks like this. Then again, they're probably pimping themselves...LOL!

Smooches :)

And They Say*Africans* Ain't Shit

I had the worst Asian Nail Shop experience ever, today.

My roommate and I went to her nail shop to get pedi's and mani's. Normally, I wear an overlay on my nails. Occasionally, I soak the acrylic off and have them either reapply the acrylic or I'll let my nails breathe all together. Well, today I decide to do the latter.

Anyone that knows me knows that I like things to be a certain way...my way. My money, my way. I let you know my expectations from the beginnning. If you agree to them or lead me to believe that you can handle them then I expect you to. If you fail...heads roll and I have no problem expressing my disappointment.

So, when I walk in the nail shop I tell them that I want someone experienced. I know me. I know that if my ish is done incorrectly I'm going to be pissed. They give me the song and dance about how my tech was experienced and has been working x # of years. Cool. I watched her like a hawk while she was give me the pedi. All was good. She was nice enough. My feet were smooth. The nail polish was applied evenly. So, I began to relax, chastising myself for being such a hard critic. Wrong move. Homegirl lost all her skills and cool points when it came time to doing my hands.

A red flag should have gone up when she didn't soak my nails while she was doing my feet. I let it go. My nails are rather long and I wanted to perserve some of the length. Now, I've been getting my nails done since I was 12, so I think I could be labeled an nail aficionado....knowing how things are suppose to be done. So, she takes a fake nail and thinks she's about to use that to seperate my nail from the acrylic, popping my nails off. I had to stop her and show her that these are my nails and that way of taking them off would break my real nails, so dont do that. She acts as if she understands, pulls out a bowl to soak my hands in acetone. Cool. We're on track. Her impatience got the best of her. Long story short...she breaks one of my nails and I get pissed.

I tell her that I'm pissed and I told her not to do that because I knew what the outcome would be. She tries to tell me that it will be okay. I'm like no it won't. Now I have to cut all my nails to have a uniformed appearance. That's tacky to have different length nails...in my opinon. So, I tell her to continue and I just won't be back. She starts clucking in her native tongue and Mighty Mouse, the owner, comes over to save the day or get her ass whooped depending on who you ask. She instantly gets amped. I'm sitting at the nail station with my hands in the bowl and this chick is telling me that she doesn't know what I expect them to do....it was an accident...she could put a fake nail on it, which in defeats the purpose. If I wanted acrylic back on my hands then that's what I would have gotten. Mind you, her face is like 6 inches from mine and she's going off. I stopped her in mid-sentence and told her to back up. She stopps yapping and looks at me like she couldn't believe I said that. So, I said it again..."You need to back up out my face and get out my personal space." She huffs, but she backs up and starts raising her voice. I stop her again..."Lower your voice if you're going to speak to me. I'm not yelling and disrespecting you and I won't be disrespected." She huffs again and walks off saying that they weren't going to finish my nails and tell the tech to stop doing them. I laugh. Seriously....I laughed out loud. I told her as calm as I could, " I'm not leaving with my hands like this. You'll either fix them or you won't get paid for anything. Choose."

See, when you're dealing with people of other races they sometimes expect you to act a fool so they can say, " see how black people act." I chose to let her act a damn fool while I remained the voice of reasoning.

The tech finishes taking the acrylic off. I tell her no need for the manicure. She had fucked up enough for one day. I pay and leave. I get to the car and realize that I don't have my phone. Clearly I left in the shop...right? Right. Peep the shadiness.

I go back in the shop and ask the girl at the front did she see my phone. No. I walk back to the station and ask my tech. No. I walk back out to the truck and dump the contents of my purse out on the seat. I walk back in the shop and ask her to call it. She does. No ring. She points to a sign that says they aren't responsible for lost or stolen things. I tell her "Bullshit. That's a $500 phone. I'm about to call the police and ain't nobody leaving." I tell her I'll be right back to check my purse again because it's about to get ugly. Mind you we are parked right in front of the salon and no one has come in or out while all of this is going on. As I'm walking out my Roomie is walking in. She tells me that she has been calling my phone and it's going right to voicemail. That means that someone is hitting the end button, thus someone does have my phone. I walk back in and this white chick that was sitting in my old seat says with a smile, " It was in the chair". I snatch it and walk out. I hear her say behind me, "You're welcome." It took everything in my soul not to turn around and choke that thieving bitch out. Instead I kept it moving.

I remember before I got up I took my phone out of my purse to check the missed call. I must have set it back in the seat instead of putting it in my purse. I have a PDA. That's not a small phone. So, there is no way in hell her flat ass didn't feel it when she set down. Plus, when I called it I never heard a ring in the shop. And, if it did ring and it was just muffeled because she was sitting on it she should have felt it vibrate. And, when my roommate was calling it was going to Voice Mail. This Bitch tried to jack me for my phone. All she would have to do is switch out the SIM card and she got a PDA.

And, they say *Africans* ain't shit!


Smooches :)

Why Wednesday

• Why is today Wednesday?
• Why couldn't it be Friday?
• Why is it so damn hot?!
• Why am I complaining when I wished for this?
• Why, when I was a kid, did I use to think stepping on ants would make it rain?
• Why am I getting my hair done tomorrow even though its hot outside?
• Why did my face light up when someone told me I look cute when I wear my hair curly?
• Why is it still hot at 8 in the evening?
• Why ask why?
• Why is it that some people have all the luck?
• Why is Everybody Loves Raymond so funny?
• Why am I addicted to reading people's blogs?
• Why am I so technologically illiterate that I can't change my own blog template?
• Why don't I feel like continuing to unpack?
• Why am I looking forward to going to Chicago for Labor Day?
• Why is my new landlord a Dingbat?
• Why did I come home today and my roommate had her bedroom window wide open pass the security locks?
• Why am I working on a dumb project at work?
• Why did people start a petition to have Beyonce redo her Deja Vu video?
• Why do they think she cares?
• Why does this bug-a-boo dude call me from a different number every time to trick me into answering?
• Why wasn't I interested in watching Sex in the City when it was on, but now I love it in reruns?
• Why are some people so corny, but think they're not?
• Why do people love to try to pronounce my whole name, constantly mispronouncing it?
• Why do I want to snatch out their wind pipe every time they attempt to say it after I've told them 10 times how to pronounce it?
• Why did I even write this post????????

Smooches :)

Moving is a *Bleep*!

***Back to our regularly scheduled programming***

So, I moved this weekend! Pure Hell! We moved 2 apartments into one...We started at 9 in the morning and didn't end until 3 that afternoon. I have to give a shout out to everyone that helped me! Thanks a bunch. We had 6 men helping us. I think the only person you all may know is Skinny G from the Manlaw blog. He came over from start to finish...took my bed down, moved my stuff, my roommate's stuff and then put my bed back together. I know if I was exhausted by the end of the night, he had to be beat. We did have a minor set back, though. And, it was all my fault. I locked myself out of my old house. Skinny G was so brave. He climbed on my roof and was going to attempt to climb through an open window. Luckily, we tried the credit card trick on the top door and it worked. Skinny lived to breath another day...

I think I may open an U-haul franchise. I never understood just how much money they made until this weekend. My reservation was for 9 in the morning. I called myself getting there early at 8:45 . Yeah right. When I arrived there were 20 people already in line ahead of me and the place wasn't even open, yet. When I left, the line was out the door. There was this one guy returning his truck from the night before. He wanted to keep it for a few more hours because he wasn't done moving. They basically told him he had to turn the truck in or pay $200 each hour he kept it pass his reservation. His only other alternative was to put in a new reservation for the first available truck which was going to be the next day. WOW!

Between me and Pfizer (my new roomie) we will be unpacking for at least a month. Trying to walk through the house is like walking through a maze...shit is every where. Endless. I will admit that this is my favorite part of moving. Unpacking and rearranging. You get to recreate your space all over again. Buy new rugs. Pictures. Linen. I love it!

Being the party animal that I am, you know I'm already planning the first party. We've decided on Halloween as the date with the whole Halloween motif. That should give us enough time to get everything unpacked and organized. I'm thinking a mascarade party. Everyone will have to wear black. We're going to make black and orange (in the spirit of Halloween) mask to give to our guest at the door to wear the entire night. Each mask will be different. I'm getting excited just thinking about it.

Anywhoo...

I have work to do, so I'll holla at you later...

Smooches :)