A while a ago I posted a blog stating things I have learned about myself and I would like to zero in on number 4 and number 18. Number 4 being, I am bitchy sometimes, and number 18 meaning that I understand why I am perceived as snobby. Sometimes, in life you come across people you just don't like, but I feel bad because I usually have a dislike for people who have done something to me. Well, there is a person who has done something too me, that I have had it out with, and eventually we forgave each other and moved on. Now when I said I moved on, my feelings were, "Hey, we're cool I can stay in the same room with you now but we ain't friends." I believe that her feelings were, "Yay, we were best friends we had an argument and now we're friends again. Let's skip into the sunset". I feel bad for being a total bitch to someone who is trying to be nice to me. But then again I don't because the minute I say something that she doesn't like, whether I am speaking to her or not, we'll have it out again. I apologize for rambling, but in a nutshell she's crazy.
I am also torn because I'm always the main person saying that black women are bitches to each other and we should complement and celebrate one another instead of hating all the time. And here's my hypocritical ass, physically turning my nose up at someone because deep down inside I don't feel that they're worthy or aligning themselves with me.
I'll never admit that out loud, though
I don't like her, she's crazy and I should not feel guilty about it. I know deep down inside that she really thinks I'm some conceited bitch who's only nice to people because she feels like she has to be. Oh, well, life throws us a bone sometimes.
Anyway, on to other topics, lately I've been obsessed with figuring out with people are gay or not. There's really nothing to do at my boring miserable job except look at celebrity gossip and comment on it like I really know these people, and I realized that a lot of people in the real world, not just Hollywood are bisexual or gay.
What started this self-realized gaydar obesssion is there is a new girl that I hired about two weeks ago, pretty girl, very feminine, about 19. She was calling a person who I thought seemed like her boyfriend to make bring her some food, and and the person who arrived was a very masculine looking girl with a Kool aid smile on her face carrying a box of KFC. I swear on the inside I was like 10-years-old going "oooooooooooooo".
I shudder to admit that the first thought that popped into my head was that she's too young to be gay, how ignorant is that? I'm a lot of things I admit, but close minded is not one of them. Its amazing how no one ever admits their true feelings about homosexuality until the actual homosexual act pushed right in the face. There was this girl who was a janitor on my floor who was let go because she was spending to much time with her boyfriend and her girlfriend on the clock. One would bring her lunch and the other would bring her dinner. Once again,"ooooooooo".
As far as the Hollywood gayday thing, here's my top 5 men in the closet.
1. Tom Cruise
2. Matthew McConahey(sp?)
3. Vin Diesel
4. Hayden Christensen (darth vader from star wars)
5. Jamie Foxx (he's bisexual, don't get mad at me)
Thursday, May 26, 2005
Monday, May 23, 2005
Men stink
Let me preface this post by saying that I hardly ever talk about sex in my everyday life, which is why I seem to go on and on about it in my postings. I guess it has to come out somewhere somehow.
Yeah, so I decided I hate men. Yep, hate 'em. Selfish, egotistical jerks. A perfectly sane female will lose her damn mind over some asshole who does not deserve them. The woman knows the whole time that every move that she is making with this man is digging her deeper and deeper into a hole, but you know what she dives on in anyway. On that note, I broke my celibacy vow this weekend.
I'm not mad at myself that I did it, I'm mad at myself for the way that I did it. The way its supposed to happen is that I'm supposed to be at the club, really drunk, make that "I'm horny" drunk phone call, and after its all said and done, I blame the whole thing on how much I drank.
Didn't happen that way.
I'm a really light sleeper, plus I always forget to turn my phone off, so when someone calls me late at night, if the phone rings, even if its on vibrate or silent, I'm pretty much awake for the next three hours. Anyone who knows me knows how light a sleeper I am. So he was supposed to call me at 10:00, not that I was going to do anything with him, because I'm so into my celibacy zone that I have that power. 10:00 comes, 11:00, screw it I'm going to bed. I get a text message at midnight, I was half awake. So I looked it was him. It says "are you still awake?", I text him back and say no.
15 minutes pass...no sleep...phone lights up
"Is everything still going on tonight.."
"No. I'm sleep"
Looking at the ceiling pissed off, 15 minutes later.
"get up." For some strange reason, this turned me on.
"No".
phone actually rings, I don't answer. I text back, "I'm sleep."
again. "I'm sleep"
Looking at the ceiling again, realizing I'm up for the rest of the night. I pick up my phone and dial.
"What are you doing?"
"waiting on you to call me back."
"I said I was sleep." Lying is the first stage of denial people
"my bad, you want to go back to sleep." You know good and well, I don't want to go back to sleep, and you'll get mad if I say yes.
"well, what's the point now"
"so you still want me to come over". I hate when boys do this, they ask a dumb question like this just so they can hear you say some version of "yes I want you now."
"whatever."
That was it, this dumb, uncecessary exchange was the downfall. And, I'll admit now, since I'm in total honesty mode, I subconsciously did it to get back at some other dude. So stupid. I hate men.
Yeah, so I decided I hate men. Yep, hate 'em. Selfish, egotistical jerks. A perfectly sane female will lose her damn mind over some asshole who does not deserve them. The woman knows the whole time that every move that she is making with this man is digging her deeper and deeper into a hole, but you know what she dives on in anyway. On that note, I broke my celibacy vow this weekend.
I'm not mad at myself that I did it, I'm mad at myself for the way that I did it. The way its supposed to happen is that I'm supposed to be at the club, really drunk, make that "I'm horny" drunk phone call, and after its all said and done, I blame the whole thing on how much I drank.
Didn't happen that way.
I'm a really light sleeper, plus I always forget to turn my phone off, so when someone calls me late at night, if the phone rings, even if its on vibrate or silent, I'm pretty much awake for the next three hours. Anyone who knows me knows how light a sleeper I am. So he was supposed to call me at 10:00, not that I was going to do anything with him, because I'm so into my celibacy zone that I have that power. 10:00 comes, 11:00, screw it I'm going to bed. I get a text message at midnight, I was half awake. So I looked it was him. It says "are you still awake?", I text him back and say no.
15 minutes pass...no sleep...phone lights up
"Is everything still going on tonight.."
"No. I'm sleep"
Looking at the ceiling pissed off, 15 minutes later.
"get up." For some strange reason, this turned me on.
"No".
phone actually rings, I don't answer. I text back, "I'm sleep."
again. "I'm sleep"
Looking at the ceiling again, realizing I'm up for the rest of the night. I pick up my phone and dial.
"What are you doing?"
"waiting on you to call me back."
"I said I was sleep." Lying is the first stage of denial people
"my bad, you want to go back to sleep." You know good and well, I don't want to go back to sleep, and you'll get mad if I say yes.
"well, what's the point now"
"so you still want me to come over". I hate when boys do this, they ask a dumb question like this just so they can hear you say some version of "yes I want you now."
"whatever."
That was it, this dumb, uncecessary exchange was the downfall. And, I'll admit now, since I'm in total honesty mode, I subconsciously did it to get back at some other dude. So stupid. I hate men.
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
I hate streams of consciousness...
It seems like all I freaking talk about lately are sex, boys, and my weight. I'm so fucking vein. But sadly, the world makes you that way.
So I realized yesterday, that I have a problem. I don't know the exact clinical diagnosis for someone who is always on a diet, but in reality they don't need to be. In don't want to say I have an eating disorder because that's not true. I eats plenty. But, I am always on a quest to get skinnier. I also know that something is wrong with me because not only am I not fat now, I probably never will be. Its in my genes to be thick, I will always be that way, but no one in my family is obese, not even close. I wasn't even a fat child, in fact, with the exception of the some depression weight loss as result of two broken relationships, I have always been around the same size. So why do I keep freaking out about it? I am an actress and how we look is important to us, but dang, I can worry about this crap when Warner Bros. studios picks the bill for my nutritionist and personal trainer that will be included into my contract.
I think my problem really came to fruition today because I'm doing weight watchers. The pants I am wearing are a SIZE 8, and I'M DOING WEIGHT WATCHERS! What the hell is wrong with me. Yes, I have self-esteem issues, but that's boring to talk about. Yes, I am self-conscious about my big booty, but I like having a butt, I want to have a butt, just not the tip drill that I have now.
I'm not crazy, I don't want to look like this:
.
That's disgusting by the way, I don't see how white girls strive to look like that.
But you would think by the way I act, maybe subconsciously I want to be a walking stick.
Television like to drill into us that being fat is ugly, and being fat will make you unhappy, and you always have the consummate talk show guest who loves to start crying about when she was fat, she wanted to cement herself into a brick wall because she was so big and unhappy. In reality, aren't the fat people that you know some of the happiest mother fuckers on this earth? Even on these talk shows, even though they are crying reliving their pain, they have a spouse/boyfriends/girlfriend right by their side saying that they would have killed themselves if they weren't there. I don't have that. I've never had that. In fact, last summer when I did gain about 10 pounds, I never remember saying to myself, "damn, I fat". I actually remember saying, "hmph, I'm getting kind of thick, that's cool as long as its my butt. That's kind of cute". I made an excuse for my fatness!!! I believe that's the secret to a happy life, get fat. Last summer, I swear I could not walk down the street unless I felt someone boring their eyes into my ass, come to think about the only reason that I did lose the weight is because my parents made fun of me really bad.
See, this is what happens when you're skinny, you become a narcissistic, neurotic mess.
I know, I know, I should be happy with what God gave me, and I am completely, but he also wants us to be the best person that we can possibly be and that best me is ten to fifteen pounds lighter.
So I realized yesterday, that I have a problem. I don't know the exact clinical diagnosis for someone who is always on a diet, but in reality they don't need to be. In don't want to say I have an eating disorder because that's not true. I eats plenty. But, I am always on a quest to get skinnier. I also know that something is wrong with me because not only am I not fat now, I probably never will be. Its in my genes to be thick, I will always be that way, but no one in my family is obese, not even close. I wasn't even a fat child, in fact, with the exception of the some depression weight loss as result of two broken relationships, I have always been around the same size. So why do I keep freaking out about it? I am an actress and how we look is important to us, but dang, I can worry about this crap when Warner Bros. studios picks the bill for my nutritionist and personal trainer that will be included into my contract.
I think my problem really came to fruition today because I'm doing weight watchers. The pants I am wearing are a SIZE 8, and I'M DOING WEIGHT WATCHERS! What the hell is wrong with me. Yes, I have self-esteem issues, but that's boring to talk about. Yes, I am self-conscious about my big booty, but I like having a butt, I want to have a butt, just not the tip drill that I have now.
I'm not crazy, I don't want to look like this:
.That's disgusting by the way, I don't see how white girls strive to look like that.
But you would think by the way I act, maybe subconsciously I want to be a walking stick.
Television like to drill into us that being fat is ugly, and being fat will make you unhappy, and you always have the consummate talk show guest who loves to start crying about when she was fat, she wanted to cement herself into a brick wall because she was so big and unhappy. In reality, aren't the fat people that you know some of the happiest mother fuckers on this earth? Even on these talk shows, even though they are crying reliving their pain, they have a spouse/boyfriends/girlfriend right by their side saying that they would have killed themselves if they weren't there. I don't have that. I've never had that. In fact, last summer when I did gain about 10 pounds, I never remember saying to myself, "damn, I fat". I actually remember saying, "hmph, I'm getting kind of thick, that's cool as long as its my butt. That's kind of cute". I made an excuse for my fatness!!! I believe that's the secret to a happy life, get fat. Last summer, I swear I could not walk down the street unless I felt someone boring their eyes into my ass, come to think about the only reason that I did lose the weight is because my parents made fun of me really bad.
See, this is what happens when you're skinny, you become a narcissistic, neurotic mess.
I know, I know, I should be happy with what God gave me, and I am completely, but he also wants us to be the best person that we can possibly be and that best me is ten to fifteen pounds lighter.
Saturday, May 14, 2005
"I'm not a player I just crush a lot..." The Finale
Ah, the booty call. Isn't it great? Somebody needs to write a song about it, wait a minute, I believe Blackstreet did, but it sucked so somebody needs to write a better song about it. Booty calls rule.
I am celebrating the booty call, because I got one last night, but alas I did not partake in the activity that followed afterwards. I happened to be doing some much needed grocery shopping late night and my cousin is crashing on my couch for a week. My apartment's not that small but the bedroom and the living room are right next to each other, so there's no way she could not hear me. Believe me, if she was at home and I wasn't so exhausted after that horribly long day that I had yesterday, it would have been on. But, I took it as a sign. Dammit....dammit all to hell.
I don't remember if I have written about this before but I would like to take this time to go over a couple of quick simple rules for the proper etiquette of the booty call.
1. Call as close as possible or before midnight.
I know the rule is a booty call takes place at midnight, but I have things to do so you need to catch me as early as you possibly can. I am willing to be lenient on the weekends, but I plan on being sleep no later than 2:00. Anytime after that catch me on the next go round, bro, because I'm not answering the phone.
2. Bring your own rubbers.Its just proper manners. What I look like going to the grocery store in my lingerie, asking for Trojans. I don't know what kind of brand you like, and I never buy the right kind. I keep some in the house for emergencies only, and I don't bust them out unless its absolutely necessary.
3. Leave when we're done.
I haven't had a boyfriend in goodness knows how long and so that means I sleep in the middle of the bed. Plus, because I haven't had a boyfriend in forever the mood may hit and I may get a little needy. That cannot happen, so you must go. I'm not a complete asshole, we can have a beer and chit-chat a little bit, but you cannot spend the night. Why do you ask? Because if you sleep there one night, you will ask to sleep there again, and even Superman has kryptonite.
This will be the final entry in the "I'm not a player saga", at least for a little while. To be honest, its just getting a little depressing writing about all the sex that I am not having.
I am celebrating the booty call, because I got one last night, but alas I did not partake in the activity that followed afterwards. I happened to be doing some much needed grocery shopping late night and my cousin is crashing on my couch for a week. My apartment's not that small but the bedroom and the living room are right next to each other, so there's no way she could not hear me. Believe me, if she was at home and I wasn't so exhausted after that horribly long day that I had yesterday, it would have been on. But, I took it as a sign. Dammit....dammit all to hell.
I don't remember if I have written about this before but I would like to take this time to go over a couple of quick simple rules for the proper etiquette of the booty call.
1. Call as close as possible or before midnight.
I know the rule is a booty call takes place at midnight, but I have things to do so you need to catch me as early as you possibly can. I am willing to be lenient on the weekends, but I plan on being sleep no later than 2:00. Anytime after that catch me on the next go round, bro, because I'm not answering the phone.
2. Bring your own rubbers.Its just proper manners. What I look like going to the grocery store in my lingerie, asking for Trojans. I don't know what kind of brand you like, and I never buy the right kind. I keep some in the house for emergencies only, and I don't bust them out unless its absolutely necessary.
3. Leave when we're done.
I haven't had a boyfriend in goodness knows how long and so that means I sleep in the middle of the bed. Plus, because I haven't had a boyfriend in forever the mood may hit and I may get a little needy. That cannot happen, so you must go. I'm not a complete asshole, we can have a beer and chit-chat a little bit, but you cannot spend the night. Why do you ask? Because if you sleep there one night, you will ask to sleep there again, and even Superman has kryptonite.
This will be the final entry in the "I'm not a player saga", at least for a little while. To be honest, its just getting a little depressing writing about all the sex that I am not having.
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
"I'm not a player, I just crush a lot..." part 4
No, no sex yet. Close though. Lets just say something wicked did happen in the broom closet. Its not my fault, though. I was provoked..or poked...whatever!! I guess men have figured out by now that the easiest way to get sex is to act like they don't want any. We see right through that bullshit, but it doesn't make it any less hot. A lot of women base their self-esteem on how much stuff a man will do for them without sex being involved. For example, if they take them shopping or to dinner or something. Believe me, when this story is repeated to their girlfriends, believe me that a sentence will be included that states a version of the following..."Girl, I haven't even gave him none yet." Some women actually get a high off that shit. Most of the time they don't even like the guy. There are also two categories of women. The kind who like sex and the kind who love sex. The "likes" as I like to call them, usually have a boyfriend and they have sex with them because they feel like this is something that they should do just because their in a relationship. Also, these women usually have never had an orgasm. You can easily spot these. A girlfriend of mine actually told me that she didn't care if she had an orgasm or not, as long as the sex felt good she didn't care. Spoken like a true-orgasmless female. I know, I don't get it either.
The "loves", usually don't have a boyfriend, but they really love sex. Some may call these women hoes. I disagree. A hoe is someone who uses men to get what they want as far as financial or emotional incompleteness, but they sometimes don't even care about the person they're dealing with, they just need a man to prove their desirability. I sometimes call women hoes who aren't even having sex. (cough, cough, J-Lo, cough) Nothing wrong with a woman admitting she loves sex and she wants it any way she can get it. To find out if you are a like or a love all you have to is think about these questions. Do you have a boyfriend? If he wasn't your boyfriend, would you still sleep with him, and if he wasn't good in bed and you knew someone who was would you sleep with him? If you answered yes to either or both of the last two questions, you're a "love". To give you a hint as to what I am, I slept with my last boyfriend for a whole year after we broke up.
The "loves", usually don't have a boyfriend, but they really love sex. Some may call these women hoes. I disagree. A hoe is someone who uses men to get what they want as far as financial or emotional incompleteness, but they sometimes don't even care about the person they're dealing with, they just need a man to prove their desirability. I sometimes call women hoes who aren't even having sex. (cough, cough, J-Lo, cough) Nothing wrong with a woman admitting she loves sex and she wants it any way she can get it. To find out if you are a like or a love all you have to is think about these questions. Do you have a boyfriend? If he wasn't your boyfriend, would you still sleep with him, and if he wasn't good in bed and you knew someone who was would you sleep with him? If you answered yes to either or both of the last two questions, you're a "love". To give you a hint as to what I am, I slept with my last boyfriend for a whole year after we broke up.
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
"I'm not a player I just crush a lot..." part 3
I figure there is not really much to update until I break down and actually have sex, which I figure I am just two vodka and cranberries away from, but everything is holding steady. I also find this particular mission to be rather easy because the gentlemen whom is in the equation is a gentleman. I believe if he was some kind of sexual deviant, (the type I usually go for) and he pushed me up against a wall in some corner, I wouldn't be able to resist. Respect, hmm what a concept.
The real the test is if we actually visit each other's houses. How long will we be able to survive in the dark, watching a shitty movie, with nothing to keep us warm except our bodies...getting a little to cheesy romance novel here. I write again when something interesting happens.
The real the test is if we actually visit each other's houses. How long will we be able to survive in the dark, watching a shitty movie, with nothing to keep us warm except our bodies...getting a little to cheesy romance novel here. I write again when something interesting happens.
Monday, May 02, 2005
I'm not a player I just crush a lot....part 2
So my self-imposed celibacy thing is going really well. Its kind of like when your on a diet and you go through that really bad period where you want eat everything in sight, but you cant and its torture. Well, same concept add sex. I don't know what made my hormones rage so much this past week, but I believe the worst has subsided. I have a weak moment here and there but all and all its been pretty okay. But...
I am being tempted. He has basically expressed to me in a very gentlemanly way that if I say the word, its on. I don't want that from him though, I just want to hang out be cool, chill. But of course, guys don't realy want to do that with me. I believe that its the big butt that gets to them. He is a janitor in my buliding, and I have never actually had sex in a broom closet before...wow, that's kind of hot, but I digress....
No evil thoughts, evil. I don't know what to do now. But I am going to stand my ground as much as I possibly can, unless he touches me in the bad place. Then I'm in trouble...
I am being tempted. He has basically expressed to me in a very gentlemanly way that if I say the word, its on. I don't want that from him though, I just want to hang out be cool, chill. But of course, guys don't realy want to do that with me. I believe that its the big butt that gets to them. He is a janitor in my buliding, and I have never actually had sex in a broom closet before...wow, that's kind of hot, but I digress....
No evil thoughts, evil. I don't know what to do now. But I am going to stand my ground as much as I possibly can, unless he touches me in the bad place. Then I'm in trouble...
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