Movie Review: Dreamgirls

Okay, I'm going to be as objective as I can. Putting all the negativity aside, and giving an honest and objective review.

Yes, it was good. It was very good. Very well done. I'll say that first.

No, Beyonce didn't suck. The first half of the movie anyway, she didn't suck. To be perfectly honest, I couldn't really get a fair read on her performance because she didn't really do anything. Also, the critics have neglected to say that Jennifer Hudson's part is twice the size of hers. She literally just had more to do. So if you're paying to see anybody, you're paying to see Jennifer.

Beyonce is fine as younger Deena, I guess, but by the time she morphs into older Deena, she's no personality havin' Beyonce again. There's even one supposedly serious scene where she curses and the audience in the movie theatre with me busted out laughing.

There are a lot of parts in this movie that I guess the marketing people decided to keep under wraps. The people who have the most screen time is Jamie Foxx and Jennifer Hudson, who were both good. Jamie is also the one who had the hard task of having the most dialogue among a cast of characters breaking out spontaneously into song, and somehow it still worked. Believe me, I hate Jamie Foxx, but I will say he did very well. Annika Noni Rose, who plays Lorell, the Dreamgirl who people forget is in the movie, had a much bigger part than advertised. And, trust me vocally, she is the one who was physically holding back, not Beyonce. (She loves to throw that in people's faces doesn't she?)

Eddie Murphy was fine, to me it seemed like he was playing himself somewhat, but he was still funny.

Danny Glover has a sizable part in this movie, too. And that's all I have to say about him.

Sweet vs. Bitch

BITTER BLOG ALERT!! WARNING DON'T WRITE ENTRIES WHEN YOUR MAD

What do you think that means? My definition is drastically different that it was years ago.

Before, one of the worst things that I could be called is a bitch. It really used to "bother me if someone even thought that I was a bitch. Why? Because, truth be told I am a lot of things, but I am not a bitch. I have always gone out of my way to be nice to people. In fact, most of my confidence came from the fact that I was one of those people everyone liked. If someone didn't like me, whether I did something to them or not, I would try to find a way to resolve it so that they would like me again. All of this trouble, and if someone rolled their eyes at me like "that bitch". My first thought would be "oh my god, I pissed her off. I have to fix it!!!". Pathetic, I know.

I accept my altruism as a part of me now. I don't shun it anymore. I don't clench my teeth everytime someone says I'm too nice. I've learned to make friends with it, and as a result, am gradually learning to control it.

I still think I'm nice, I don't think I'm "sweet" anymore. And that's okay. It's the "sweet" people who are the meanest mother fuckers you'll ever meet. The sweeties have to overcompensate for the evil that lies beneath, myself included in this category.
I don't go out of my way to speak to people anymore, I don't speak to people I don't want to speak to, and I am really sure of who I trust as well as who my real friends are.

"Sweet" is overrated. People who I have befriended and ex-friended have all been "sweet", but that's it. I never liked any other attribute of their personality than the fact that they're "sweet". This list includes "boyfriends". I've spent majority of my life giving people my time and energy that they didn't deserve. Also, from my experience, I find that a lot of "sweet" people are extremely self-involved. If you really listen to them talk, they only talk about themselves and the conversation revolves around how much them and what the world owes them, and that's not sweet.

Sadly, I can also identify with people, who society labels as bitches. Because, they don't lay it on thick with this sugary sweet exterior, because they don't take shit from people especially men, because they don't give a shit as to what anyone thinks, they are labeled as bitches. I used to think my sister was a bitch, for 20+ years in fact, she's not. She just does not care what anyone thinks, she doesn't settle for less than greatness, and the people who really know her she's great to. I get it now.


Jennifer Lopez doesn't count in this category by the way. Now she is a bitch

The Random Blog Tidbits Post ... Again

I'm off from the University for Christmas, and I've been watching a lot of TV. So forigive me for seeming like I don't have a life....because I don't.

1. Does anybody watch Rob and Big on MTV? This is what happens with me, and I think this is what happens with most people who watch that damn show. We turn to it because there is not shit else on TV, and end up watching it and cracking the fuck up. Everytime. It was especially funny last night.

2.The Real World is halfway decent this year. I think it's because they have a black man on there who actually acts like most black men. He actually looks like an typical attractive black man. He's a little ghetto, but not too ghetto. He'll fight a motherfucker in a second, he's bright, a little charismatic, and he's a hoe. I'm not gonna front, I'd hit it. Hard.

3. Dexter on Showtime is hands down the best show on TV. You need that show in your life. For those of you who don't have showtime, you can watch it on the internet like I do. If you want it, drop me a line and I'll e-mail you the link.

4. Beyonce got nominated for a Golden Globe, huh? Well, since I consider myself very much and internet savvy celebrity gossip expert efficinado, I'll drop some knowledge on you. Celebrities pay for that nomination. Sharon Stone paid for hers, as a matter of fact, if you hear of someone being nominated for something and you're like, what the fuck? I'd say about 8 times out of 10, that they kissed major ass, sucked somebody's dick, or straight up paid somebody for that nomination. Case and point? Beyonce getting to sing 3 songs at the Oscars last year. 2 of them in foreign languages? All because she's so unbelieveably talented? Yeah, sure....

The Hoe Gene

If I have to explain what this is then you dont't have one.

First, let's classify what exactly my defintion of a hoe is. My defintion of a hoe is a person who loves sex to the extent of being able to have it with a person or persons without any emotional attachment. Said hoe, is also willing to participate in questionable sexual actions with person or person(s) without remorse. A hoe may use this task for either personal gain or a continuous chase of an unattainable euphoric high.

And yes, I have one

I, as well as many others, namely women, have to keep the hoe gene under wraps, because if we don't then we will be considered...well...hoes. Of course, this does not apply to men because it is acceptable in society for them to be hoes. If women does not fight her hoe gene, then any man she gets involved with will see how easy it is for them to get sex, and how willing they are to experiment sexually. Thus the man treating her like a fuck buddy, always resulting in not being respected.

We with the hoe gene walk around with a mask. Whenever we come across a man that we find worthy of pursuing a relationship with, we must never ever let on our true persona. The hoe gene is only unmasked when we are with a specific male that we will never have any romantic feelings for, or some random person who caught us on a super drunk night at the club whose name we don't have to remember.

Typical symptoms of having a hoe gene (for females)include:

-watching way too much porn, I mean way too much porn even for a guy

-if you meet someone whose nice that you're just not attracted to that you don't plan on seeing again and you contmeplate getting sex out of it anyway

-if going 2 weeks without sex is an eternity for you, but you don't have a boyfriend.

-your fuck buddy sessions are not a treat that comes out of nowhere, but a part of your weekly routine.

-fat dudes sometimes become sexy to you.

If at least two of these five items apply to you. You have issues that need to be controlled.

I admit it, what inspired this post was that I had a re-lapse recently. The non-high school graduate dude who I spoke of in an earlier post, called me yesterday morning. Don't even like him in the least bit, but it took everything in my power not to go over his house yesterday. That's some strength for your ass.

I'm sick of hearing about Kramer

So Kramer cussed out some black people in a club, and they're about to get paid.
This is what its come to when it comes to black people getting some positive press.

People have the gall in this day in age to make racist statements when the face of their youth are
"Starlets" who flash their vagina, obviously junkies, and display rude and disrespectful behavior on camera (literally) on a daily basis? With no signs of remorse.

David Banner received a humanitarian award for his efforts in hurricane katrina, and he is extremely charismatic speaker.

click here

Why I Hate Going Out

I came to this epiphany last time I was in LA.

I hate going out....and pasta. But we'll concentrate on the topic at hand.

My cousin and I go out whenever I'm in LA, and I'm always so excited because I actually get to go to a real club instead of the non-existent ones around here. I figured because since its a bigger city, its a broader scope of men to dance with, better music, a stricter dress code, blah blah. So needless to say, I was looking forward to having a good time.

I have narrowed down my club experience down to science and each one is practically the same. First, going straight to the bar trying to generate a strong quick buzz that will carry you the rest of the night. Second, waiting for a good song to come on, then waiting, and waiting. Third, people watching while commenting on the jostling of your surroundings (a.k.a talking about girls who are too big to have on the outfits they're wearing).

And lastly, we have the actual dancing, which consists of finding a spot on the floor to get your groove on.

Hence, while partaking of the getting on of the grooving I encounter the part that I hate the absolute most about going out.

The fighting off of the sweaty men

There's nothing I hate worse then the smell of man who has been dancing hard as hell all night long, in a crowded hot club, who then spots you and decides that you are the one that he was been waiting all night to see. Therefore, he feels to need to entice you to have sex with him by rubbing his sweat drenched, musty, deodorant running, cheap cologne wearing body directly on top of yours. In motion. Ewww...dry heave.

And...here's the rub. They don't leave.

You try to politely dance away, they dance the same way. You try to turn your head, they turn it back. You try to hold your hand over your nose, they pull it down and put it on their neck. You pass out face first on the floor from the inhalation of toxic fumes, they dry hump your lifeless body on the floor. So on and so forth.

Also, when you manage to wrestle free from sweatbox and actually see someone cute that you want to dance with. One of these three instances occur:

They don't dance, nor they don't want to
Cuties don't really dance that much. If they do, they do their "I'm so cute I don't need to dance" two-step about 3 feet away from you. I also believe by the time the sweatbox is pried away from your ass with the jaws of life, every single girl in the club has tried to get in their pants, he's already chosen, and he's retired for the evening.

They're with their girl
I hate this shit. Why the fuck would you bring your girl to the club, why? What romantic memory are you trying to recapture by going to the club? The club is congested as hell so there's a big chance your going to see someone that you used to fuck. Also, desperate losers like me do not want to see you making out with your girl. I'm bitter enough being there in the first place.

Something is wrong with them
This category includes plenty. The most popular being gold teeth and speech impediments. The most common being upon first meeting uttering these words, "something ain't right about this motherfucker." If you have any more, feel free to tell me. I'm actually researching for future posts.

Yeah, and about that pasta thing. Its just slimy and gross and unfulfilling, and I'm going to stop forcing myself to eat it. That is all.

The Los Angeles Project

I am PMSing right now. Something awful. Plus my dumb ass decided to get hot chocolate this morning instead of coffee, big mistake. Therefore, the bitterness that is usually present in this post will be turned up a notch. You have been warned.

I had a panic attack last night. Most of the time I have them in my sleep, to the point where they wake me up out of sleep. And I can't go back to sleep. It's not a pleasant experience.

Why did I have a panic attack you ask? Because I am the spawn of some of the most meticulous, anal retentive, semi-negative, uncomfortably direct to the point people on earth. If you have hopes and dreams? Forget about it. They won't shoot down your hopes and dreams, but they will list every single possible reason known to man as to why your reasoning is completely unrealistic.

Make sense? If not, Here's a little taste of what my life has been like.

I am not good at standardized tests, mostly because I think they're retarded. If I take one, my score is going to be average to slightly above average. So imagine what happened when I took the ACT junior year of high school. No studying, was late, only took it because I had to, plus my attention span isn't the greatest. Got a 21. Happy. Good enough to get me into a decent school. Stress relieved.

My parents got wind of the score. Even though I got into college, and had a decent GPA, I absolutely have to take it over. The main reasoning? Because my sister got a 22.

Believe me, this wasn't a mild suggestion, I mean they made me take it over. Who gives a shit that I was satisfied and my future was secured. They'll be damned if they have two children walking around with two different ACT scores. Parents like them are unfit.

Fast forward to age 27, I'm talking to my sister and telling her my plans. Understandably, she has concerns, so a natural question would be, "What if this doesn't work out, what will you do then?". Honestly, live homeless on the streets of LA and not tell my parents. But of course I didn't say that.

But she could have just left it there, but no it went to this. "Well you know, you probably need to have a backup city, and start thinking about going there." Keep in mind, my sister knows I want to be an actress, so there really is no other city. Where the hell does she want me to go, Vancouver?

My point is, she had a valid point, but perhaps she should save it for when I'm not so hopeful.
My replacement starts in January, I have move dates, I'm screwed if I have to come back. Hence, my panic attack last night.

Its a little to early to start putting in resumes (I'm leaving in February), so no job prospects have come to fruition, and money is going to be tighter than expected due to my car fucking up every five minutes, and all I have to depend on is me.

(This will be continued by the way, not continuously but intermittently, pray for me)

The 5K Run

So I ran my first 5K this past weekend. It was interesting. Its one of those things that I said I've always wanted to do, but just never really cared enough to do the work. So, in light of my self-improvement kick that I've been on the last couple of months. I decided to do it. I decided to dedicate this post those of you who always kinda wanted to do something, anything, no matter how stupid or unattainable it may be. This is how I got off my ass.

First, things first, I am the most lackadaisical mother fucker you will ever meet. I don't give a flying shit about a lot of things. It came from traumatic childhood experiences that went something like this:

Me: Daddy, can I take gymnastics?

Daddy: No, go to school

Me: Daddy, can I take piano?

Daddy: No, go to school.

Me: Daddy, can I take swimming lessons?

Daddy: No, you need to get your math grade up, you got a B. Your taking college level math classes this summer.

Me: I hate my life!

Daddy: I don't care...

You get the idea.

So I had been "exercising" on and off since this summer. When I say "exercising", I mean getting my walk on 3 times a week. It got cold outside, I had to start going to the gym after work. I was on the treadmill bored out of my mind, looking around at all of the white girls sprinting on the treadmill next to me, and I said, "I'm old. Walking ain't getting it anymore". So I looked on the internet for going from couch potato to running, and it said that I could be running a decent amount in a month. I figured what the hell. I also have an ipod, that helps tremendously.

It went from that to, running with a girl who's in the army who drags me to the gym every night, to I wonder if I can run 3 miles, to doing some research on the internet on local 5K's in the area. Here are some bullet points if you ever decide to do this:

* People who run are insane. They have all the expensive gear, they wear coochie shorts in 5 degree weather. They have this look in their eyes , like "I'm going to eat you".

*The 5K's are usually nothing for them. This is just a warm-up for the 2-day marathon that's coming up for next week. Just trying to get those legs loosened up.

*5K run means run, not jog. The winning time was 15 minutes. That's like 4 minutes a mile. I'm not going to say my time, but it was much, much faster than mine.

*This is an event where low standards are necessary. If you try to compete, you will fallout. My goal was to finish, not stop, and not come in last. Three goals that I can happily say I achieved. I tried to get cocky and set a goal time, but that was thrown out around mile 2 when I ran out of breath.

*Honestly, I hate running. But something about it makes you want to keep going. People look at you differently when you tell you run. Next week, I'm going to try and start training for 10K.

So to summarize, if I can run anyone can. For real, any of y'all..You'll be surprised at what you can do if you put your mind to it, blah, blah. Baby steps. And as far my body, in my opinion, it has totally changed and its the only exercise that has truly done that.

If my little inspirational speech doesn't work, maybe this will..

Random Blog Tidbits

A. So Mario Lopez didn't win Dancing with the Stars, huh. I don't even watch the show and I know he should have. Emmitt Smith? He seems like a nice guy and all, but dancing wise a world of no. I know why Mario didn't win though, he's good-looking with a great body and he's a good dancer, so therefore his life is perfect enough already.

B. Attention whore's been giving me the evil eye at work, still. I this had to do with convo she had last week with her cousin (the stupid asshole I'm in love with who doesn't love me who I talk about all the time, for those who are first-timers) about me being a "secret genius" and all. This boy should have a name now since I'm obviously still borderline obsessed with him, so he is now christened Loverboy.

C."Loverboy" was in town this week, and for the first time in long time, I didn't feel like a moron around him. Usually my attitude is something like, "oh my god, I'm so in love with you I can't even function as a human being." Now its somewhere along the lines of, "oh, you're more predictable than I thought, I can handle this now" This was a really big breakthrough for me therapy wise.

D. I don't care about Tom and Katie's wedding. Nor about Britney Spears's divorce. Neither does the rest of the world. So join with me in my boycott.

E. I still hate Jennifer Lopez.

F. And Tyra Banks

G. I now hate Halle Berry now that I know she's a fraud. Bitch has had an assload of plastic surgery, and I can't believe I didn't notice it before.

H. Last but not least, I have a seething hatred for this girl, her name is Paula Patton. She is in the new Denzel Washington movie. She's that type of pretty that you can't be friends because she brings out all your flaws when you stand next to her. And, to top it all off she is married, not fucking, not dating, but married to the for real father of my children, Robin Thicke. Here they are in all of their sickening glory:

The Bi-Yearly Freakout part deux

I am the bionic woman, I am a robot. I can certainly dish it out my fair share of psycho babble bullshit, but now the inside is totally hollow.

I had a heart to heart with my beautician yesterday. I had to impart some of my therapy wisdom on her because she was going through it.

Long story, very, very short. She's a pretty girl, she's also a very nice girl, she's also a very good beautician, as a result she gets a lot of clients. She gets hated on. Very openly, by her co-workers, and others, a lot. I see it. Certain women know what I'm talking about. Women who have little to no female friends. If they do its usually women they have known for a long ass time. Women who have jobs (careers) that make good money, who have ambition to do more. Women who don't have a thousand men calling them on their cell phones, who don't have unecessary drama with the men they are with, and who are perfectly happy in a stable, monogamous relationship. I know who you are, and I feel you.

Once again, it's the shithole that I live in. A lot of women, not all of them, both black and white, have nothing for real going on. Their livelihood is the men that they're with or the men they're trying to get. If they have no men, it's all about being with "family", if it's not the "family", its got something to do with getting more involved in the "church." (Ugh, more about religious hyprocrites later, that's a book).

Also, because its mini-shithole, everybody knows everybody. My male friend's cousin works at my job. She's the attention whole I has previously spoken about. They ran into each other yesterday. Apparently, the consenus around the office (by the females) is that I'm weird.

This didn't piss me off, promise. I just found it really fascinating.

Continuing on with subtext of the conversation, I was told that I don't really say very much. No one really knows that much about my personal business, apparently I'm really good at my job but I keep it a secret, and of course, she doesn't have a boyfriend. Because God knows, if you don't have a man you're a freak of nature.

Keep in mind all the women at my job are "married". By "married", I mean they are legally or common-law bound to trifling men. I have met all of the betrothed several times, except for attention-whore's, and just going by their personalities alone, if was set up on a blind date with any of them, I would have taken a very long trip to the bathroom.

I thought you weren't supposed to tell any of your personal business? I thought you weren't supposed to brag about how smart you are? I also thought you weren't supposed to be with anyone unless you wanted to be? Maybe I'm crazy, I guess this just means I'm not.

Getting back to my beautician, I basically told her that I have had several experiences with women in Tuscaloosa, 9+ years (adding the story about the ghetto fighting work bitch who I had to throw out my car after making a very strong pass at me), and basically they are crazy. Adding, that my own mother hates on me and my sister. It doesn't mean anything except that you're doing something right.

The Bi-Yearly Freakout

Editor's note: I go through this initial freakout maybe about twice a year, and I have probably written this word for word in some form or another, whether it's been spread out through several entries, or one big rant. So, feel free to skip if you've heard it before, or you're just sick of hearing it period.

I cannot believe, I still do not have a fucking boyfriend

I broke up with my ex, my actual fiance ex going on 4.5 years now, and for sure thought by the time I was almost 30 I would at the very least almost be engaged. Or in a long-term relationship. Nope. Nothing. Not even close. There have been (gasp) several dalliances in and out, no pun intended. But nothing even remotely close to stable, nothing, in 4 and a half years.

One of my friends who lives in Tennessee recently got engaged. She deserved to be engaged, she's a really great girl. She got enagaged to a man who supports her, who understands her, and most of all, loves her for who she is.
She's younger than me by about 2 years, and she's one of the more mature people that I know. I am genuinely happy for her, but my inner bitch says, why can't that happen to me?

I know have been carrying on about how I've been working on myself, loving myself, and blah, blah, blah whatever...but one the issues that I have spoken about in my therapy sessions is how every positive thing that I do for myself is in some way or another subconsciously doing it to get a boyfriend. For example, "Ooh, I like football, men like football, men have to like women who like football. Ooh, I run. Some men run, men like women who run." So on and so forth. I've gotten a lot better about it lately. But like I said earlier. The bi-yearly freakout is inevitable.

Yes, I know its where I am. That situation will change soon. But I honestly don't think that this is going away when I move. At the college I went to, out of 23,000 students, there were 900 black people. 500 of them were women. You would think at one point in time or another, at the very least one of the trifling men would trickle down to me...nope. I didn't even have sex until the middle of junior year.

Recently, the first male I had been seeing since my "metamorphisis", didn't have a job (but he was laid off), lived with his mama (I live with my mama, so I can't get mad), and I (begrudgingly admit) did not have a high school diploma. Let me see, what were the good things, again....oh. He was a gentleman, big time. He actually wanted to date me, and I believed he just generally liked being around me. It wasn't until then I at that moment that I thought, that every single solitary male that I have ever dealt with ever, was an asshole.

How did we "break up"? It was my fault honestly. I didn't want to have sex him. I said I would eventually, but I lied, I wouldn't. I'm pretty sure he caught on to that, and moved on accordingly. Its cool. And that's the way it should be.

Yeah, there's going to be a part 2 to this one.

To the Big Man called "Media"; Re: Grey's Anatomy

Yes, I'm writing about it. Even though I'm sick of hearing about it, I'm writing about it.

All this media coverage of this Isaiah Washington/Patrick Dempsey crap has tainted the show for me, just a tad. All you hear that it's racist that Isaiah Washington is getting called as the angry black man, blah, blah. From what I've read, Isaiah Washington is an belligerent asshole, period. Those come in all flavors. Also, there's is this talk that he's getting fired...whatever. If any of you watch the show, his character is the most expendable. He could easily get written off just because they've done all they can do with it. Also, my favorite speculation, he choked poor little defenseless Patrick Dempsey, just because he was trying to stick up for the little gay boy, and he is an endangerment to the safety of the cast...okay. Do you know how ignorant someone has to be to make you choke them? At your job? You don't just choke a mother fucker out of nowhere, I don't give a damn how crazy you are. Like Chris Rock said, "I'm not saying I agree with it, but I understand."

So what am I mad at? Why the pent up delayed frustration? I love Grey's Anatomy. I'm obsessed with Grey's Anatomy, a lot of people are these days. I don't want to watch this show and think about animosty between the cast, who hates who, if T.R. is sleeping Patrick Dempsey, and so on and so forth. So here a news flash. I don't give a shit!!! so "media" stop trying to make me! Obviously ABC thinks that the controversy is going to draw more viewers out of curiosity, but they were already the number show on TV, with growing viewership every week, you don't need more viewers.

The way times have changed, since our rhodes scholar of a president has been in office as a matter of fact, you have a publicity stunt to sell an album, you can be famous and get cash just for being "friends" with Paris Hilton, and you can still get photographed every day even though your movie career is over. Stop!! We don't care. I don't think anyone outside the industry really cares. Both Paris Hilton's last two movies went straight to video, Lindsey Lohan's movies don't make money, Nicole Richie is visibly dying before our eyes, Janet wore a fat suit for two months, and took it off so she can tell everybody she lost weight just to pimp a godawful shitty album, and Tom Cruise got fired (yes, I said fired) from his place of employment because he made up a baby to promote a movie, and MI-3 still bombed, so stop it!! None of these ideas are working for the greater good.

In conclusion, "media" don't mess up the one shining light of enjoyment for me that takes place once a week at 8' o'clock on Thursday, because frankly I don't know if I can take it. Desperate Housewives, okay, you have that. I let that go. But not Grey's, I just won't be able to handle it.

Oh, and "media" , if you fuck with Ugly Betty, and I find out America Ferrara is a former Nazi, I am personally coming to look for you.

Its not dead

I'm sorry for the lack of posts throughout the last couple of weeks. Just been a lot of shit that has been experienced not recorded. Here are some highlights.

1. I went to traffic court for my very first speeding ticket. I never realized how much of a goody two shoes I've been because I felt like a criminal. It was great.

2. ABC.com and NBC.com re-broadcast most to all of their shows on the internet with no commericals. Needless to say that takes up a lot of my time.

3. I watch more TV now than I have in years. Me being at work until 9 p.m. has limited me to Laguna Beach re-runs and everything else aired around it. Now I have a schedule on the VCR as well as the internet.

4. I'm currently training for a 5K. I know, I don't believe it either.

5. I'm making huge strides into getting over that boy that I whined about in my earlier posts. I'm not out of the woods yet, but I can honestly say its coming along,

6. Ugly Betty rules my world.

7. I have finalized my plans for my California "sabbatical". Got a leave date and everything. Woo!!!

8. Justin Timberlake is coming to town 2 weeks after I leave. I still haven't re-covered from the devastation of missing him and Christina A. 3 years ago. I'm trying to talk myself out of flying for one day just to see him.

9. My car is mad at me that I'm leaving, she's been making me spend a lot of money so I won't leave, and she's threatening to completely quit on me. I have to nuture her in the coming months.

10. I'm "celibate". I use this term loosely just because the next person I sleep with will, for once, not be trifling. One can only pray.

Highlights of my week

Shitty week. Doesn't take much to amuse me.

1. Beyonce's new name is Lil' Magic.
(any Living color fans?)


2. I also found this funny.

Lindsey Lohan

I always wondered how the hell these self made millionaires had the motivation to get off their ass and do something impotant. I wondered if someone broke their heart, or they had an idea and someone laughed in their face and became driven by anger, I wonder if they prayed a lot for their dream to be realized, and if they prayed that they can do something, anything, that will make their mark on this world and simultaneously, get them out the poorhouse.

Well, what inspired this post was me being completely bored as hell at work all week and reading about Lindsey Lohan. I don't think I have seen anybody, Ms. Spears included, fuck up their career completely on their own so quickly, publicly, and badly. Not only that, I don't think she gives a shit. At least Britney, has made attempts, trifling or not (hello horrible dateline interview) to prove she isn't as bad as people thinks she is. Ms. Lohan, instead chose to never stop being an asshole. I think that since she is getting photographed every single day, regardless of whatever the subject matter is, she is still a star. I don't think she realizes that she the only reason she's famous now is because people are fascinated that she has completely fucked her life up. She just thinks she's a star, the paparazzi still fight to take her picture, and that's all that matters.

Also, what bothers me is the people who are really successful, who got that way rather quickly, are completely unappreciative of what they have. I guess that's the way things are supposed to happen, assholes who don't deserve it, don't care when they get it. But I still don't understand that logic at all. When I went to LA, on my studio tour of Paramount , I was chatting with our tour guides (also wannabe actors) who informed me a girl who was on their earlier tours, got her very first role, a a guest spot on Nip/Tuck, but she really didn't seem to care that she got it. She was just like, whatever, and they were baffled. Hell, I was baffled. She wasnt even from LA, she was from a small town in New York somewhere, she just lucked up and got it. Didn't care. I was done.

I guess the point of my rant is that I know its in me to do something great. I know I need to write a novel, or a critically acclaimed screenplay, or be the most successful black actress of all time (fuck Halle Berry, she's a hack). I moved back home so I can go to LA, I have written (count) one page of that pulitizer prize winning novel, I guess I'm just in that stage of, what now?

He's not that into you

I don't remember if I had posted this before, but I have recently read the book He's not that into you as well as its sequel, Its called a Breakup because its Broken. Changed my life, for real.

I never realized until I read that book just how much shit I took from men until now. I never realized until I read that book how much shit a lot of women took until now.

See I live in a state where the median age of getting married is 23. And I never realized until reading that book, just exactly how many women actually do not like their significant others. They just put up with it because they don't want to be alone. My cousin, whom I love dearly, is currently with living with a guy who she has been with for 5 years, has 2 kids with, and for some unbelknownst reason he's not ready to be married yet. She punched him in the face last week because she found 3 girls phone numbers in his car, that she co-signed for. When confronted about said numbers, he replied they were old friends getting back in touch with each other. And to think, she's one of the most confident people I know. But she's in love.

I was part of that statistic too, not even going to lie. One line in the book says something about not liking yourself so much, that every little gesture that a man shows that is nice, you take it and run with it. I do that. I also realized after reading this book just how insecure my male friend was. One of the biggest things that I loved about him was his security, realized it couldn't be further from the truth.

As for said male friend that I talked about last post, I'm still very much in limbo about what I'm going to do. I haven't talked to him since I came back from my trip (on purpose), but now I know I cannot talk to him until I know exactly what I'm going to do. I know this time its real, because it pains me not to answer his call. The accidental time I picked up the phone, I said I was busy. He's been calling me more, but I realize its jealousy/insecurity, not him "wanting" me.

What a dick, I'm so over this shit.

Getting my mojo back...

I've lost my blog mojo, lately. I haven't been real enough in the past few posts

Okay, so I'll be honest here. I'm tempted to be the most honest that I have most been on a blog, but if not I'll be pretty damn honest.

So I have a male friend who I have mentioned on this blog before once or twice. I was/am in love with this said male friend, right now I'm hopelessly caught between the two.

Male friend sucks. Ass. He's the worst possible human being to ever be in a relationship with. He's a hoe, he's stubborn as hell, and he's self-involved as all get out. At the root of it all though, he is a good person, hence the feelings.

I've come to terms with the fact that we'll never be together. Ever.
I've also come to terms with the fact that even if we were together, I would not be able to trust him. Ever.
I also accept the fact that he sleeps with other women, frequently. It still makes me uncomfortable, but I know it happens.

Well, this is what I hate. I hate when he lies to me like he's my boyfriend. I hate that. If its already established that we're friends, why do you feel the need to play it off when I hear other women in the background? That pisses me off even more than if he actually told me, "yeah, I'm in the middle of having screwing some chick, call me back."

Also, my current deduction is this. I'm the female friend. The plain chick that you see in the movies. I'm the chick who's like a guy friend that the male whore keeps on the backburner for a long time, just in case he decides he wants to settle down in the far future. I feel that even if we didn't talk anymore, he would still look me up 20 years down the line, broke with nothing accomplished in his life, saying how much he loves me, how stupid he was, and propose and my stupid ass would probably fall for it hook, line, and sinker.

At this point, I'm tired. I'm tired of wondering if I will be able to give myself to someone because I'm still into this asshole. I'm tired of it being an unspoken rule that no matter who I sleep with, that he will always come first. I'm also tired of being so scared that he's going to be out of my life forever, that I play stuff off that its not a big deal.

Its not a healthy relationship. I already started by not talking to him as much anymore, but that's not good enough, something has really gotta give. Any suggestions?

This is an alternate universe

I'm excited about college football starting up this weekend. Most notably notre dame and georgia tech. Embarrassingly excited.

I "reprimanded" one of my employees yesterday, and didn't feel bad afterwards. (Ok, I did a little bit, but I never questioned if I was right or not, because I knew I was.)

I lost 3 pounds.

I've been "seeing" someone for about 2 weeks and I haven't slept with him yet. Actually haven't kissed him, either.

I don't want to speak too soon but living at home sucks (obviously), but not as hard as I though it would. Should have done it long time ago.

Not saying these are milestones for me, but these are about 4 things that I know I would not have said or did last year. Things can't change in a day, but now you can make the change to start handling them differently, that's what she tells me.

I am definately leaving my job in January. I actually believe myself when I say that now. I'm filling out the leave of absence form today, thank god.

To summarize, I don't feel so much like a walking open wound anymore. The basic emotions are still there, but its not as prevalent as it used to be. What I didn't expect is how much of a struggle it is. I knew that making this change would take this much work, and also how long it would take. But I'm doing it, so I can sleep at night, and feel better about me. Actual me, not just physical me.

**Running off to say personal affirmations now**

Love Letter

It's a hard time for you right now. You've had a difficult past, and now you're on the verge on trying to do something big. You have to overcome your weaknesses and use them to help you grow.

You have to seriously start looking for the good in yourself. You have to find what it is about yourself that you love, because you are very worthy of being loved. If you don't have anyone right now, that's okay because God has already removed the people in your life who didn't deserve you. You deserve to be happy because you've earned it.

In the past, you always felt that you had to please everybody because you felt that everybody loved you, it secured the fact that you were a wonderful person. Everyone does not have to like you, because if they don't, the only reason they talk to you because they think you are easily manipulated. They don't give a shit about the kind of person you are. They are the ones missing out. Everyone loves to pick on a nice person because they think they can't tell anybody no, but you don't need them in your life, you have to realize that. They are not worthy of giving a second thought.

Your past is your past. There are some things in it that you don't like but it made you the person that you are. And that person it patient, genuinely nice, smart, and hard working. You should like this person. She is likeable. You have to believe in yourself. Years ago, you never thought you would make it on your own but you have, you never thought you would have your own life outside of your parents, but you do,
you never thought you would have the balls to move to LA and become an actress but you're going to, you never thought you would be an individual, but you are. Yes, you are different from others, but that's what makes you great, and its going to take a special person to realize that. He'll come into your life, but only when you're ready.

So take this and read it whenever you are down. I know you're down right now, but keep fighting like you have been doing, the fight will be worth it in the end.


To: Me
From: Me

Beyonce is a bitch

Alright, therapy is making some headway. Because guess what, I'm over my Beyonce jealousy!!!

Well, I know you're thinking, if you're so over it then why are you writing about it? Because of so many reasons, I've been so jealous of her since Destiny's Child first came out, I was jealous of her looks, and her "talent". Also, what bothered me so much about her is the fact that she she has always led such a privledged life -- she grew up wealthy, she can actually sing, has a boyfriend with even more money than her, and although not the smartest tool in the shed, she stil seemed genuinely nice. Boy, that was a fucking lie. The bitchiness even comes out in her interviews now. Thank god for the internet, more specifically the comment sections on celebrity sites, because I would be totally naive. I wonder do all these celebrities know that all of their assholishness is fully publicized to the American public, and its come to light that now in the age of internet and fakeness via Paris Hilton, everything that is usually deemed as A-list or successful is completely fake bullshit crafted by publicists and marketing teams. And she my dear, is no different.

As a duty to my American public and myself, I present this little gem I found on imdb.com.

"I work for a popular magazine and have worked on several of Beyonce's photo shoots(as well as those of other big stars)and OMG is she a beyotch! She got one girl fired for bringing her water she said was too cold(although she told us to put it in the freezer because it was really hot at the outdoor shoot). She is soooo stupid that she makes Paris Hilton look like a Rhodes Scholar or a member of MENSA! She grew up wealthy but can't manage to form coherent sentences. One of her slaves/family members always has to translate her gobbledygook into english for us. Did you see her on Punk'd? She thought those poor kids Xmas was ruined and she did not give a flying f@#%! She posed for pics like nothing happened and brushed off the little kid that spoke to her. They finally just ended it because she was so nonchalant about it that it wasn't even entertaining. Trust me-she's fat! We airbrush her like there's no tomorrow. she has so much cellulite and so many discolorations on her skin it's just gross. She recently lost weight and that's good for her but I hope she loses the 'tude as well. By the way-as for her 'incredible body'-can you say..LIPO! We had to airbrush the scars for like an hour! As for the person that said she was shy and quiet when she met her-HA! She just felt you were so beneath her you weren't worth speaking to! She does her best acting in photos and interviews pretending she's not a royal pain in the a$$! She even yells at her cousin who works for(who is nice)-that poor girl is a saint! I hope she gets caught on tape one day showing her TRUE colors so you poor naive suckers can see the truth and stop worshipping this idiot! All her songs are love or sex and half(or more) of them make no sense!(Your sexiness is so appealing I can't let it go?!) She learned a new word-YAAY! Hooked on Phonics might be working for her!"

Yes, this very well may be completely made up. But do you really believe it is?
So bye, bye Beyonce. You're not all that.

Also, check out my best friend's blog. She hates her, too.

I still have issues - the mini-post

Well, so today was the big day. I went to the psychiatrist. I was so excited. I finally get to see someone on a regular basis to talk about my issues, and get some help., blah, blah, blah..

Turns out Tom Cruise may actually be onto something.

I basically paid $100 dollars for someone to tell me that I was in the wrong office. Psychiatrists can write perscriptions, yes, but unfortunately nowadays that's all they do. Its the counselors and the therapists who actually do all the talking and listening i.e. the actual work. Nobody told me this, even the two people who went to see him before who recommmended me to him neglected to tell me this. They're both pretty much addicted to their anti-psychotic medication so I should have known better.

But I haven't given up yet, I did make an appointment with a therapist and I'm determined more now than ever to get my issues straightened out.

First the weave, now this....

So guess what I made a major decision this past week. The second big that I have made on my own next to the sew-in weave, and I'm just as excited.

I'm going to see a psychiatrist.

Why you ask? Do I think I'm crazy? No, I don't. Do I feel like I'm getting there? Not quite, but eventually yes. Its not anything major...well actually it is. But these are the three major topics that I'm planning on covering in my time there, and I really hope he has answers because I sure as hell don't. I feel bad because I really think no one I know, including my best friend really knows how bad it is, because I hide it so much, hence another problem.

1. I have horrible anxiety.
It may spawn from depression, who knows; but I am horribly non-confrontational. I hate it. Even when I know I'm right and it is a confrontation that has to happen, especially me being a manager, it makes me sick to my stomach, whether the event acutally takes place or not. Also, even when a confrontation happens and I know I'm right, I still have this underlying need to smooth things over in some way because I have to have everything go back to normal. "Not rocking the boat."

2. I have unhealthy relationships with men
This is arguably the biggest problem, I actually should have put that in all caps. I have been hurt by men my entire life, and it has affected me more than I realized. It's so bad that I don't even think about men in terms in relationships anymore, I think of them as sexual conquests. I figure its just easier to give them what they want and get out, rather than even trying to let them get to know me, because I'm so sure that they're going to be disappointed when they do. I blame my parents.

3. I have anger issues
Anyone who knows me, is fully aware that I supress my anger a lot. I hate actually getting angry because once again, I'm scared of once again,"not rocking the boat", I would much rather things go back to normal or remain normal than actually express my anger and say how I really feel. So because of all this tension, when I do get mad, oh lord. Someone can literally step on my toe and I will cuss them out until I have tears in my eyes.

I believe that everything else I have to talk about is supplemental to those three. I don't want to go on any type of medication, so I really hope this works.

It has now come to pass..

So, its been forever and two days since my last post, but dammit I've been having issues.

Which ones shall I address first?
Oh, yeah I moved back home. It doesn't suck so bad because I'm never there. I haven't quite reaped the full benefits yet because I remembered part of the reason I moved back there in the first place is because of financial trouble. My parents so far haven't gotten on my nerves quite yet, especially my mother who (shock of my life) has been chipper and supportive. I guess since she has someone to talk to now she's not quite so angry all the time. Same with my father.

Oh, yeah, at the rate things are going now leaving in December is looking quite bleak. I'm way broker than I thought I was.

Umm, what else. If you have read my blogs in the past you probably remember psycho ghetto bitch who made my life hell all last summer. I started smoking because of that bitch. She supposedly got a job last summer in Atlanta, and I thought I was rid of her for good. Well, she's back, and she wants her old job. The good news is that my boss actually asked me if it was okay to let her come back, to which I said a resounding hell no. The bad news is she's still in town, and she has friends here.
I taped the numbers to the campus and city police to the bottom of my drawer just in case shit pops off, because I can't be fighting nobody at my job. In fact, that's what prompted my frustration so much, because I couldn't hit her because I was at my job. She makes my stomach hurt. I don't know why. I'm still trying to sort out if she intimidates me because she's crazy or if she flat out makes me uncomfortable because I don't like her. I don't know, the drama continues.

Did almost get into a fight the other day though, which my friend Addam nonsurprisingly. And it wasn't a heated exchanged either, it was a I got up in his face with my fists balled and lunged at him fight. I won't even spare you the details as to what the fight was about, because it was stupid. I wasn't drunk, but I was feeling alright off a couple of beers. Keep in mind Addam is about 6'4 and 240, so you could tell he really pissed me off. Everything's cool now, though.

Let's see what else. Oh, I really like Jessica Simpson's new video. I just had to say that out loud so I didn't have live with just the private shame anymore.

I hate Beyonce's new one. Very proud to admit that one.

Jessica Alba Ain't no Star

I don't know why this has been bothering me so much lately, but it has, so I will do my haterism check first..(Am I hating? am I hating? Am I jealous?...Nope, I can proceed) I can now proceed. Jessica Alba ain't no star.

Now due to my countless hours of research on the net, the way to make it really big, really really quick in Hollywood does not require a) talent, b) looks (see Sarah Jessica Parker and Jennifer Anniston, or apparently now c) star quality. All it takes, ladies and gentlemen, is a really good publicist. I knew this was true when I saw the Kristen from Laguna Beach make the cover of US weekly for sleeping with Nick Lachey. Yes, she's not a huge star or anything, but that bitch had her own TV show and filmed a movie. There are many other actors in Hollywood who have been in the game for eons and cannot say that.

Back to Jessica, I have seen this bitch host the movie awards, she's in paparazzi shots every day, and a lot of people know her name, too. She's not just a little famous. She's a legitmate actress.

I know you're saying now, she's famous because she's pretty(in some people's opinion anyway, I don't think she's all that, but what do I know). Well, there are many, many pretty girls in Hollywood, and plenty of them do not stick out in a crowd, much like Miss Alba. I've seen her on several talk shows as well. She's really boring. Not stupid "I'm an idiot" boring like Ms. Hilton, but "I'm really am not interested in anything you have to say because I don't care and you don't have any star quality" boring. I mean look at this:



***ZZZZZZZZ*****

There are plenty of people who I absolutely hate Paris Hilton, Puffy, Jennifer Lopez, who I totally resent that have no talent who should not be famous. But the reason that they evoke so much hatred, is because they are stars. Meaning, even if they weren't famous somehow some kind of way they would stick out in a crowd. I actually invest time into hating these people. But yet somehow Jessica Alba landed the only female superhero role in a profitable comic book franchise.

Even as I'm writing about her I'm getting bored.

So what is the point of all this? Basically, unless somehow I luck up and find some fantastic publicist who accept new clients by payment of sexual favors, without upfront cash, I'm screwed.

The Plight of the Needy Woman

I've been wanting to write about this for a while, but I just never found a way to express it. But there are straight up, a lot of needy ass women in this world. And I can spot one a mile away, and predict the disaster that ensues later.

I consider myself somewhat of an expert on this subject because a) I am a direct descendant of the needy of all that is needy...my mother.
b) because the neediness is in my genes, I have also battled the needy disease quite a few times in my life. Kind of like a vampire fighting his thirst for blood. Kind of like Blade, yeah, that's good..like Blade.

I define needy as someone who literally defines themselves by a man, who can not do anything without their man, who will suffocate themselves if their man even threatens to leave them. Which is why, the said man stays with them in the first place, for fear of what will happen if they don't.

Neediness translates very seamlessly into other behavior patterns as well, the most recognizable one being extreme aggressiveness. If a needy woman does not get what she wants when she wants, she will cut you. What happens is her man disappoints her in some way, and because she is scared to death to piss off said man she will never say anything out of turn to him, but instead she will vent her frustrations on any and everything that does not go her way.

I will use as a basis for plot outline, my friend Jessica. Jessica has never had a real boyfriend before, until she met Bob 2 years ago. Bob is everything she's always wanted, tall, cute, articulate and on top of that they share the same interests. Jessica hits the jackpot. Well, see Bob has been in a relationship before and still talks to her, so he pretty much could give a shit about the "building a future together" deal.

Bob has broken up with Jessica twice before because he said he did not want to get too involved, to which Jessica called incessantly because she just wanted to "hang out".
Jessica has a nice paid for house that she owns, but because Bob won't stay there Jessica stays in Bob's shitty apartment, all the time. Bob was accepted to grad school in Brooklyn, so Jessica offers to go. He did not ask her, she offered. This from her mouth, mind you. She says she wants to be in New York for her art career, but keep in mind I've known her for about 3+ years and I have never heard her mention a thing about moving to New York.

She's on the computer looking for apartments and working 8 hours a day, while Bob works his part time, chilling knowing that he's going to have a loan check come in soon and he does not have to do shit.

Last, but not least, Jessica could not stop whining about Bob. I politely suggest why not just let him go first, and when you get money saved up, you move up there later. That did not go over very well.

And Jessica bitched me out, literally threw a tantrum, the other day because I told her that I did not want to hear the name Bob or anything that rhymes with for the rest of the day.

**Holds up pom-poms and cheers*** NEEDY!

Women like this scare me. I understand the dealing with the daily trials and tribs. of low self-esteem but damn!! If you're that scared that he's going to leave you he probably does not want to be with you for real in the first place. Two, he's with you know, he's not going anywhere, so how's it going to be when you're in a place where you two know no one and you'll be clinging to him like a bump on a log.

Sorry, Jessica this will not end well, it never does.

I Get Stood Up a Lot

I get stood up a lot. A lot.

Most of time it happens, when I meet some guy whether it be out in public, or other places (okay, the internet) and they contact me saying that they want to meet me. Usually the first suggestion is that they want to come over my house, or they want me to come over theirs, to which I say no. I often suggest that they meet me somewhere, like somewhere for coffee or something.

So lets take for example, last night. Unfortunately, yes, I have a myspace. And until, about last week, I had absolutely no idea that it should be retitled "Ass-gettin' central" because I did not have a clue that it was hook up city. I get messages on there all the time from men, questionable ones at best, who want to...you know.

Well, about 2 days ago it was different. One who contacted me was actually really cute, dare I say gorgeous. Not that looks should ever matter in the grand scheme of things, but we're just talking about sex here, not planning an engagement party. Anyway, we talked non-stop for two days on myspace. Some words were dirty, some not.

Turns out he lives here, about 5 minutes away from my job to be exact. So I got fed up with all the dirty talk and started hinting around about us meeting to see what he would do. Not expecting much, because I've been through this before and knew that if he had even the smallest feeling that wasn't getting ass, he wouldn't show up.

There's a coffee shop and a movie rental place right behind that I usually hit up about every Friday after work, so I told him to meet me there. So I wouldn't be going out of my way or anything. He was all, "Yeah baby, I can't wait until 9, I don't know if I'm going to make it that long." Yeah, okay.

So I went and got my green tea anyway as planned, no phone call, no guy, no big deal. It was fun while it lasted, kept me entertained for at least 2 days so that was a plus.

The last time this happened was some dude I met at the gas station, who kept going on about how pretty I was and he needed a good, clean girl. Yeah, okay. I told him I had a boyfriend so he can back off, but I gave him my number anyway, just to see what would happen, who cares? I'm too hard on dudes, anyway, need to give a couple a break. If not, caller ID and call blocking exists for a reason right?

He called me and leaves me a message saying that he would like to see me tonight. All right, you want to see me so bad, I'm going to Taco Bell to eat during lunch, at 12, during the day... meet me then. I went, ate my two taco supremes, no dude, no phone call.

And do you know, that fool called me 2 weeks later leaving me non-stop messages saying "Ooh, I just have not stopped thinking about you, you remember me, I would love to come over your house."

Okay, you straight up stood me up, dude. You probably did it knowing you a) forgot, because it wasn't a priority to you or b) you knew you would have to work for ass.

Whatever.

I Don't Feel Sorry for Britney Anymore

I've been trying the post the actual interview that's on youtube.com , but alas Blogger sucks

After this interview I officially do not feel sorry for Britney Spears anymore.
This bitch is playing us hard.

Its painfully obvious that she knows her career is over and she cannot live without attention, and the only way she knows how is to keep the tabloids talking about her. I know Ms. Spears herself orchestrated all this because it also appears that she does not have a publicist. No handler in their right mind would not let her go on TV looking and sounding like that.

Also, I officially don't feel bad for her anymore for these two reasons. A) She never once calls her son by his name, she refers to him repeatedly as my baby; like a prized object or a new puppy. This is evident that her baby is more like a pretty, shiny new toy to her than an actual human being she needs to raise and care for. Disturbing

B) She's a really bad liar. Also, proof that she does not have a publicist because if she did; they would have prepped her hard for this interview.

Bitch, you knew they were going to ask you about Kevin. The two things, actually the only two things you need to do if you don't do anything else is look Matt Lauer straight in the eye when he asks you a question, not to the right, every five seconds, stupid bitch.

The second thing is, this is Dateline, child. Not some hillbilly talk show shit on CMT. Look stunning. Have your shit together, so at the very least the public will distracted by how fantastic you look so they can't really focus on how stupid you are. You will be able to get away a lot more shit in the public eye if you at look good. Hell, you see what it did for Angelina.

My posts have been running a little long lately and I can go on with this subject. But I will get off my soapbox now and let you discuss amongst yourselves.

My mother.

Well t minus three weeks and counting until I move in with my parents. I just got a washer and dryer installed in my apartment too, so now its really going to suck living at home.

I have talked myself in and out of it several times. I keep saying, maybe I can stay through the rest of the summer, maybe I can push it back until the end of July, maybe I can just go out there and find a job and then worry about moving.

But this will happen, if I push anything back any further, I will chicken out and be here at these nightmare jobs even longer than I planned to be. I will get backed up on bills and I will be here (gasp) yet another year. That cannot happen. I'm still fairly young, and I have to start living my life for me...for once. If I don't do itnow, I'll never do it.

It's not necessarily the swallowing my pride and moving back home that's bothering me. Seriously, its not. It's dealing with my insecure basketcase of a mother on a full time basis. Before I have had the luxury of knowing that whenever she bothers me, I just go home and not answer my phone. Now I'm stuck there with her neurotic ass, all day long. This is really bad to talk about my mom like this, but unfortunately its true.

I even dread the day that I finally get rich, because we probably won't speak anymore. Its not the fact that I won't give her any, its the fact that she will expect a million dollar check like clockwork every month. And she won't even really appreciate because she feels like its owed to her because she gave birth to me. Yes, that sounds absolutely horrible, but once again, unfortunately its true.

Which is also another one of the prime reasons that I'm moving across the county.

Don't get me wrong. It's not the fact that she's a bitch, really. I can almost accept bitchiness. It's the fact that she is selfish and insecure on a dangerous level, on a level that I or most people for that matter, have never seen. If she's mad it me about something, she can't just be mad and not talk to me. She has to rub it in my face every five minutes whether it be by phone messages or stalking, that she's mad at me and not talking to me.

Why can't I just cuss her out and be done with it you ask? Well, I also believe that my mother is mentally unstable, due to symptoms she inhabits that I looked up on the internet. You can't really get super mad at a person if you know that something medically is wrong with them, and they cannot mentally process that they are talking crazy, which I truly believe that mother does. Before you ask, no, she won't get help. Yes, I have offered. So has my sister. The only time her attitude gets in check is if my father threatens to leave her, when she starts having her one of her "episodes" as I like to call them.

Well, I guess my solution is this. Keep my door closed at all times. Tell my father to let her know in a very firm way to leave me alone about their marriage problems. Be prepared to leave at any time, anywhere. And also be prepared to not talk to her for a couple of weeks at a time on end.

I Finally Love My Hair

I love my hair. Love it. Love it. This is a monumental occasion for me because I never love my hair. Even when there is weave in it, I still never love my hair.

If you have read prior posts of mine, my hair has been an uphill battle. My natrual hair is thin, I'm taking some of the blame of this because of my neverending obsession of it growing long. My attitude usually is, it won't do anything because its not long enough yet, and I treat it accordingly.

Here's a brief chrononlogy:
In college, I was so desperate to be different. There were so many girls and I had to stick out. I had streaks, but I was bold one night and bought some dark and lovely honey blond hair color from the campus bookstore. Needless to say, I didn't know what I was doing, I left it in way too long, and I dyed my roots instead of my actual hair, and no I didn't get it fixed. I was too broke.

That same year, I got some braids. I left them in for a month before it was time to go home for spring break. When time came to take them out, I was so hell bent on cutting them out it didnt occur to me that I needed to cut the braid at the end because my hair grew and I might cut my own actual hair. Needless to say, I didn't relay to my friend this information who was helping me cut them out. She was white, she didn't know. No, I didn't get it fixed. I was too broke.

When I did arrive at a beauty shop about 2 months later, the beautician proceeded to inform me that I looked like shit. So much that two beauticians had to cut my hair to fix the damage. I believe the quote was, "You look like a lawnmower ran through your head."
I had a picture of Salt from Salt N' Pepa from the very necessary album when she was super duper short, and I told her I wanted it cut like hers. I thought that it was a drastic change. She took the picture from my hand, took one look at it, looked at me and said, "Sweetie, you're hair isn't even this long now." I came out with my hair about one step above being shaved.

There was hair strike of 2001. I had the shittiest job known to man as an assistant manager in the mall where I had to where hats every day under hot lights. I hated that job, my boyfriend at the time, and life itself so much that I literally stopped combing my hair. I would throw some bobby pins in it and go to work and put a hat on. I believe it lasted about 2 months.

Skipping past the horrible haircut given to me about my aunt that I spoke of in an earlier post, after it grew back somewhat I got braids. The braids trend is repeat about every summer about the time that my hair becomes fried and overprocessed.

Now, we have a sewn in weave. Its great. Its easy, its not hot, you can actually take care of your own hair while wearing it, and most importantly it looks really natrual. Not one person, at least not yet anyway, who has complimented me on my hair has followed it by, "is it yours?". To which if it did I would happily respond, "Why, yes, as a matter of fact it is."

Stupid Stuff about Me

I want to thank my friend Anne-Marie, because I totally stole this off her myspace.
Feel free to copy and steal at your own risk.

What is the best way to get over someone?
sleep with someone else

What makeup do you wear on a daily basis?
carmex

What did you do today?
drank about two cups of coffee, attended two jobs but I don’t’ really remember anything else.

If you could eat one meal for the rest of your life, what would it be?
pizza

What curse word do you use the most?
probably fuck.

Do you own an iPod?
yes

Who on your Myspace " top 8 " do you talk to the most?
there are only seven people on my thing, so this question is irrelevant

What time is your alarm clock set for?
8:30, but it’s an hour and a half too fast so I can freak myself out every morning

Have you ever bid for something on ebay?
yes

Do you wear flip-flops even when its cold outside?
no, I’m black.

Where do you buy your groceries from?
walmart and/or target

Would you rather take the picture or be in the picture?
Take it.

What was the last movie you watched?
in the movie theatre mission impossible 3 at home on cable, probably sky high

Do any of your friends have children?
Yes.

If you won the lottery, whats the first thing you would buy?
One way Plane ticket to LA

Has anyone ever called you lazy?
yes, my mother does a lot.

Do you ever take medication to help you fall asleep faster?
simply sleep the dollar store brand on a rough day.

What CD is currently in your CD player?
Michael Jackson, off the wall

Do you prefer regular or chocolate milk?
skim

Has anyone told you a secret this week?
no. most of the time its something I don’t want nor need to know.

When was the last time someone hit on you?
this afternoon at my mailbox.

What did you have for dinner?
healthy choice meal, country fried chicken

What is your biggest fear?
That leftover pouch thing that you get when you have a baby.

Like dark gray or light brown?
Both

Can you whistle?
yes. Not through my teeth though.

What is your favorite Christmas / winter movie?
Friday after Next, (ashamed) and Bad Santa

Do you make your own jewelery?
Nope

Have you ever participated in a protest?
no

Who was the last person to call you?
My friend Addam

What is your favorite ride at an amusement park?
That agoraphobia thing at Six Flags. The one where they take you 200 feet in the air very slowly and drop you like a pin.

What is something you must do everyday?
Drink coffee probably.

Have you ever dated one of your best friends?
By dated do you mean have sex with?

What area code are you in right now?
too embarrased to say

How big is your local mall?
Small. Both one level. With no banana republic. Shitty.

What is your job title?
Field Supervisor for one. Assistant Project Coordinator for another.

What do you miss most?
Shopping.

Would you ever sky dive?
Maybe, I’m pretty sure I’d have to be on something.

What are you allergic to?
Air. My allergies get worse every year.

What is your biggest regret?
Not dumping my ex-boyfriend first.

Have you ever had Jamba Juice?
No.

When was the last time you laughed so hard your sides hurt?
Saturday or Sunday? When my best friend and I were talking about how much of a bitch Oprah is.

What show do you know every line to?
Probably every Cosby show episode, and Friday after Next. Does that count?

Do you own any band t-shirts?
no

What is your favorite candle scent?
I don’t know. Vanilla maybe?

how many aunts and uncles do you have?
That’s an even harder question. Estimate maybe 15 total?

Where was your last plane ride?
From LA to here.

Do you crack your knuckles?
No. People who do should be shot.

How many chairs are at your dining room table?
What is this dining room table you speak of?

What is your favorite salad dressing?
Ceaser

Do you read for fun?
Sometimes.

Can you speak any languages other than English?
Nope.

Where is your cell phone?,
Right next to this keyboard.

Do you do your own dishes?
I throw away my paper plates

What color is your bedroom painted?
White.

Have you ever cried in public?
Yes. The last time I can remember was when I found out that my paycheck was going to be late.

Which do you make: wishes or plans?
Plans.

Are you always trying to learn new things?
When I’m in the mood.

Do you like to go to Wyoming?
No.

Do you believe that the guy should pay on the first date?
Hell Yes.

Can you skip rocks?
No. People actually do that?

Have you ever been to Jamaica?
Nope.

What do you like to snack on at the movie theatres?
Chocolate covered peanuts or nachos

Who is your favorite teacher?
Probably my history teacher sophomore year of college. The only A in college I’ve actually earned.

Have you ever dated someone out of your race?
Once again this dating notion you keep bringing up, so funny.

What is the weather like?
hot and humid

Would you ever date someone covered in tattoos?
No. A couple on the arms maybe.

Do you have an online journal?
Blog. If that counts.

Did you ever play Capture the Flag in school?
What the fuck is that.

Take any music classes?
Yes. They sucked though.

Do you sleep on your side, tummy, or back?
I do a tummy/side combo.

Have you ever been attracted to someone physically unattractive?
I had a little moment with the guy who made my sandwich at subway today.

When was the last time you slept on the floor?
Don’t remember.

What is your favorite alcoholic drink?
Amaretto sours.

If you were born the opposite sex, what would your name have been?
Derek. At least that what my mom says.

Do you like your living arrangement?
Yes, right now.

Has anyone ever called you spoiled?
Yes. I get that more than I should actually.

What is your mother and father's hometowns?
Sawyerville and Marion, Alabama. Respectively.

Did you ever go to the same school as your parents?
No.

How many hours of sleep do you need to function?
7.5.

How much is gas where you live right now?
$2.71

What was the last thing to scare you?
When the tree hit my window a couple of nights ago. At least I thought it was a tree.

Do you own a Playstation?
No. Video game consoles will never enter my house. They're dick killers.

How many times have you brushed your teeth today?
Once

What album did you buy last?
Michael Jackson, Off the wall.

How many pairs of shoes do you own?
Shit, maybe 20

Are your days full and fast-paced?
no.

Did you ever get in trouble for talking in class?
Once I believe.

Is there carpet, wood or tile in the room you're currently in?
Carpet.

Were you a "planned" child?
My sister and I are 6.5 years apart to the day. You do the math.

What are you doing this weekend?
Attempt to see X-men if its not sold out.

What are you doing NEXT weekend?
Please.

How old will you be turning on your next birthday?
28, God, help me.

2 Quick Tidbits: The Mini Post

Tyra Banks is such a stupid ass cunt I swear to God. She hates black women. Eva doesn't count because she's fucking Missy Elliot, like I said before. Naima is biracial, and we haven't seen Naima anywhere have we. Tyra had the nerve to tell the winner of ANTM, Danielle last night when she won, on camera "We're going to get you those speech lessons girl." She kept telling her how ghetto she was, but she was by far the most likeable one on that show. Told the girl she needed to close her gap, when the other ugmos on that show didn't get any other criticism. Then snubbed her when Danielle went to hug her, she hugged Joanie. Fucking Bitch.

I don't know if you all have heard about Paris Hilton and her little friend dogging Lindsey Lohan out in front of the paparazzi cameras (not that anyone should care, especially me). But to summarize, she basically whispered in her nasty little friend's ear duragatory things about her vagina, so her obviously coked up friend could be stupid enough to say that on camera. Its really disgusting and disturbing for some reason. And as I much as I hate Lindsey Lohan, it makes me feel a little sorry for her which is a feat within itself.

And I heard that she is the one who made Matt Leinhart go so low in the draft, they threatened to not sign him at all unless he stopped fucking her. Fucking bitch.

The Bitter Blog the Sequel

I have always been very wary to write about college, being it was the pinnacle of my ever present self-esteem issues. So I'll just go about it, one issue at a time, easiest issue first.

I was looking through some crap the other day, and I found some pictures from when I was in college.

You see in college, I had kind of an identity crisis(to put it nicely), because I had absolutely no play at all whatsoever. I had plans to get a pager, and I was mentally preparing myself for all of the dick I was going to get because I was a young freshman, I had just broken up with a boyfriend, I garnered some self confidence for the first time in my life, and I was ready for all the mens lining up to see me. Needless to say, that did not happen... At all... Nothing...for two years.

For a while, especially during junior year of college when I had my first "hookup". I still wondered why in the hell no boys even so much as smiled at me for that long.

Well, I came across some pictures from those years, and now I know why.

Its different when you look back at stuff and you look bad because of the clothes you were wearing were outdated, or your haircut is out of style, even with these things you can still look cute. But I just looked bad. Sadly, that was a picture that was taken when I was getting ready to go out; so that was supposed to be a good day. I look worse then on my best day then than on my worse day now.

I can't really describe how my body looked. I wasn't so much fat as I was dispropotioned. AKA My butt gets so big you can see the outline when I'm facing forward. I almost forgot it can do that.

My bottom half has always been bigger than my top. Just not that much bigger.

Don't get me started on the clothes. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, just a black tube top and some tight gray pants. But I believe it was the cheapest tube top and gray pants that were in existence. I was a broke college student, true enough, but I know I could afford to shell out what, $30 to get one decent pair of going out pants as opposed to the $7 dollar ones I was wearing in that picture. They even had a black racing stripe on the side, gross.

The hair, I don't feel so bad about the hair because there were really no good black beauticians in that town, and I couldn't go home every week like everybody else and get my hair done since I live so far away, so I had to work with what I had. Still, it doesn't make it right.

I guess my point as much as I bitch about how look now, or have my ugly days, I believe I have indeed come a long way, stylewise anyway. So I guess that counts for something.

The Bitter Blog

I'm seriously thinking about changing the name of this blog to The Bitter Blog, because it seems that's how everything seems to come out when I write it; whether I want to or not. But I'm pretty sure someone took that name.

So I'm doing a lot better than I have in weeks. I've been getting a lot more sleep, I've been exercising as well as eating better. I've even accpeted my fate of moving back home in (gasp) 1 month and a half. Usually when you get your shit together mentally, you start to feel a little better about yourself, you start being less bitter .

But if you've been reading my entries long enough, something has to come along and to completely fuck my world up.

So I was standing at the coffee shop this morning, like I do every single morning getting my coffee, when an really cute white guy comes in and stands behind me. He wasn't like a "oh, I have to have you" cute, he was that "oh, he's really cute and look away and not think about it anymore" cute.

The little coffee shop girl is really nice, so I can't really say anything bad about her... okay I'm bitter so I will, she ain't all that cute. She aight. But I got to witness in action this dude physically becoming her new boyfriend within the span of 5 minutes. I was standing literally right in between them, so much that I can feel him telepathically pushing my ass out the way so that he can get to her.

The conversation started something like this.

"Hey you used to work on the cafe on the strip right?"
"yeah,"
"I remember you."
"I like it much better over here."
"so what year are you..."

Blah, Blah. This infuriates me for two reasons. The first being that I swear to god, white people who attractive are never single. They overlap. They're with one, and with another before the other is over. Its just so damn easy for them.

Two, I really believe my mother is starting to think I'm a lesbian. And to be honest, I can't really blame her. The boys I have dated have been tragic, to be polite, and being officially almost 30, there is no hope in sight at all for that grandchild. Not even close. On top of that, I don't give two shits about how I look at all anymore. I wear braids all the time, I never wear makeup anymore, and don't even ask the last time I purchased or wore a skirt or a dress.

I swear, I cannot remember the last guy who tried to talk to me who (a) attempted to carry on a normal conversation, and (not or) (b)talked to me when I wasn't turned around or bent over.

True story, dude standing directly behind me offered to put pay to put air in my tires, but I happened to be completely bent over putting them in myself at the time.

I'm usually pretty okay about not having a boyfriend, but thing that drives you to insanity is you see how easy it is. Just talk. Have something in common. Carry on a decent conversation. And don't stare at my butt the whole time your doing it. That's all I ask.

Jesus, people. Pretend to want to get to know, me. Pretend not to stare at my ass. Pretend I don't even have one. Don't look at me like an alien when I open my mouth to speak in complete sentences. That's all I ask.

The Plight of the (my) Black Woman's Hair

This post does not apply to the black women with natural hair, natrually curly hair(or good hair to be more ghetto), or black women who know how to do their own hair, I'm speaking directly to women with short to medium length hair, who has to make her way to the beauty shop every two weeks, or its a trifiling nasty mess

My number one insecurity by far is my hair. Its thin, its short, and it breaks when the wind blows too hard. My entire life has been an uphill battle dealing with my hair. I have also struggled with the reality that I do not have long hair. A fact, to this day, that I still have yet to accept. I have the type of hair that I literally have to do something to every day, whether I have to roll it up or curl it. The wrap and go, or the throwing it back in a ponytail is just not an option for me.

I was traumatized as a little girl by my aunt, who is a licensed beautician, who my mother dragged me and my sister to every two weeks like clockwork to her shop. When you get to be about 11 or 12, and your mom doesn't do your hair and she lets you get that first perm, your life changes. You realize at this moment, that your hair is going to be more important that it has ever been. If it looks bad, people are going to tease you about it, if it looks good everybody's going to tell you. Well, I got my first relaxer and my hair grew like a weed. 7th grade I think it was. It was long for a good 6 to 9 months, until my aunt decided it was time for a trim. Then two weeks later it she said I needed another. My hair hasn't been the same since.

I remember when Lenell Page came up to me and said, "Damn, your hair's short, it used to be long." Just stick a dagger in my throat why don't you.

My parents, or my father, are not one for the ethnic hairstyles, like cornrows and braids, he felt they looked stereotypical, so I wasn't allowed to get any or have them in my hair. Even in college, my father told me "if I catch you with braids, you cannot live here while you have them." So get braids so my hair can grow out, or be homeless. Hmmmm.

I realized a little later in life, that my aunt, cannot do hair to save her life. My mother for years brainwashed me into thinking she could. I kept going to her for so long because my mother made me. My sister also has thin, short hair so I know my theories aren't crazy. When I was really broke and didn't have a job about three years ago, I went to her again so that she can give me perms, my hair was breaking really bad becuase of all the stress I was going through and said I needed a trim, to which I quickly replied no. With my-can't-hold-an-opinion to-myself-to-save my-life mother was standing there. She said "Let Ann give you a trim, honey. It looks really bad, and its not like you can afford anyone else.", and she turned and worked her voodoo magic on my aunt as well. Stupid ass me, said fine. Its scissors, not a razor, it is really breaking badly, so fine, I thought to myself. When she was done trimming, I was literally almost bald from above my ears down, and she did it completely with scissors so it was crooked. I'm starting to flinch, so I'll stop talking about this now.

I am currently on a hair stike, because I'm still in this hellhole, and have to move back home. Stress broke my hair a little so I am currently wearing cornrows, since I don't have the time or the patience for somebody to braid my hair for 7 hours. I acutally found a shop within walking distance to my house, that is really cheap. So I made my first appointment. Girl was late, I was on my way to work, so in turn I was late. No big deal, it happens.

Second, time, I make my appointment at 8:00 on a Monday since they were "booked" on Saturday. I show up no one's there. 30 minutes later, no one. Finally I harass the foremen who are working there to find a call phone number because I am pissed. They don't even have a phone number on their contract to their building. I can't pull a comb through my hair, I'm fucked.

So this is why I went to my aunt for so long, black beauticians across the board have issues. Excuse me, the best black beauticians have issues. You want your hair done, you work on their time not yours, don't get there on time neither, because they will call you and tell you they're going to be late, if at all. You know they're good, so they know you'll come back. Sadly that girl who stood me up yesterday only charges 25 dollars and can do my whole head in less than a hour.

I need to make an appointment with her next week when she gets back.

Shortest Post Ever...

I guess this not moving to California thing has me more bummed out than I thought. I mean I'm really bummed out.

I guess I'm so bummed out because I was reading this article the other day about how a man fell in love with a woman, not necessarily because she was the most attractive woman in the world, but because she had so much spirit. Well, my spirit was the only thing I kind of had going for me at this point, and I feel like that's even gone. Hell, I wouldn't want to date me.

This little ditty pretty much sums up how much I hate my life right now. I had an argument with a co-worker the other day as to why she never washes her hands when she's done going to the bathroom. I saw her do it, and I heard from other sources that she does it all the time. So I ask, "are you going to wash your hands, considering you just wiped your ass?", to which she replies, "I can't I'm allergic to the soap.", to which I say ,"That would be pretty hard considering the soap is antibacterial.." , and she says, "well it just makes my hands all itchy.". When she's opening the door, I reply, "Aren't you at least going to run your hands through the water?". True story. Sadly, there are more somewhat like this. I'm in hell.

It Sucks Ass

Sorry once again I've been slacking off on the blogging...Life has gotten in the way I guess

Well, I guess I can talk about this now since nothing is going to pan out of it. (I just love when that happens by the way). On my vacation roughly about 3 weeks ago I had a job interview. An interview, that went suprisingly very well. It was for a human resources position. Not job, position. The lady, the head of human resources, even was willing to wait for me to get my shit together and move when my lease is up. So excited . I thought, oh my god, finally getting the hell out of hell. It is a dream that may suddenly become reality...Yeah, well.


Turns out this woman is so happy and willing because this job only pays $10 an hour. In Los Angeles. I thought, and I planned and came to the conclusion that there is no way in the free world I will be able to move and even live with my cousin rent free and support myself, on $10 bucks an hour. I didn't even know that people still offered that to people with degrees. It sucks ass.

The dumb implusive thing to do is to leave anyway and get a second job. Well, if I work a second job, not only will I be in the same position that I am in now, but I will be worse off because gas is way higher there. Also, the second job leaves no time at all for acting classes; the reason that I want to move out there so badly in the first place. It sucks ass.

I lied to my father and told him that I told the boss that I turned the job down. I didn't. I'm still very much in limbo. My gut is telling me to fuck it and go anyway. But with no car, no money, and to be honest no place to live really that's not an option. It sucks ass.

On the upside, I have actually formed a plan due to my small circumstance, but I will have to make a very big sacrifice. My freedom.
I will have to move back in with my parents. I said it before but I never believed until this moment that I would actually have to do it.

If anyone has any better suggestions please jesus let me know.

Random Thoughts part 900?

Yuck, I'm a bundle of nerves right now because its so much shit going on, or it could possibly be this new birth control I just started. I know you all are actively wondering right now because I'm so engaging like that, but some of it I can't talk about because it's still very much a work in progress.

So know what happens when my scatterbrained ass can't pick one thing to talk about, I make a list! Fun!!

1. I went to Los Angeles about a week ago and I haven't talked about because its still very much affecting me. That was the first time I went and it actually felt like dare I say...home. It wasn't so scary, it just felt right. So much that I've been uncomfortable here ever since I got back.

2. They've been working me like a dog at my two jobs lately. I haven't really had any rest since I got back because everybody and their mama wants me to do something for them or with them. I have no problem saying no, but that means I have to sit there and deal with my thoughts. Eww.

3. 27 and no boyfriend still. Not even close. I have horrible committment issues, even worse than I originally thought, due to this past trip. Like desperately need psychotherapy bad.

4. My insecurity level has gone up about 1000%. Why? See number 3.

5. I know you're dying to know what happened, and I don't want to talk about it but I'll give a brief compromise. I met a boy, or rather know a boy. I want him he doesn't want me. I haven't told him. I can't because every girl wants him and I absolutely refuse to be one of the crowd. It drives me crazy. I think he knows how I feel, but I still won't tell him. Hence random outbreaks of bitterness and insanity by yours truly.
Yeah, I know.

6. Acutally met a really nice guy when I was there. Good job, in shape, and actually asked me out on a date. Something that really doesn't happen with me, I usually get the whole "when are you going to let fuck you?" deal. But I just couldn't get into him because of said asshole that I spoke of in number 5.

7. I have issues. I know this.

8. I'm broke. Big shock there.

9. Went to my first actual LA industry thing. The whole point of you going is to mingle and be fake and cheery and talkative. I'm bitter and surly. That will pose as a problem.

10. After all that drama, I still haven't stopped thinking about it and missing it since I left. Didn't want to leave.

Oh, yeah..Just found out that the dude I was messing around with just got engaged. He told me twice, when I point blank asked him, that he did not have a girlfriend. I hate men, I'm never getting married I swear.

I hope this makes up for lost time...

I know, its been forever. I was sitting in California sleeping, thinking damn its been a log time since I updated. Sadly, yes that was on my mind.

I also realized that I've been sleeping when it comes to the blog topics. The whole point of having an online journal is to tell the real truth, albeit anonymously, and talk about exactly what your thinking. I also thought I was writing about sex too much. The truth is, my best friend reads this blog frequently, and even though she's my best friend, not my parent or relative. I care more about what she thinks about me than my own actual family. So, here it goes, sorry moderntemptress.

I have mentioned on this blog before about how I don't really have boyfriends, just fuck buddies. Well, I have had a steady one about two months now, and he's white. Actually, two but I'll get to that in a minute.

What's the big question here, what's the big difference between sleeping with a white men and a black man? It actually depends on the person, but I'll answer the question based on my experience so far.

1.Less drama
I never really realized that black men really had drama like that until I started sleeping with white men. The fb I had before had some kind of control issue. He always wanted to come over when he felt like it, at a time I couldn't accomodate. I don't have anyone over my house after 10 during the week, b/c I'm sleep. This asshole would say he's coming over at 9:30 and if he did show up, it would be at like 11. And would be confused to why I was pissed. And, they always have to do something before hand, i.e. "I had to drop of my cousin at work," or "I had to drop my boy off at his cousin house".

Don't even get me started on the fact that there is always a baby mama, or someone who is about to become a baby mama that they either lie about or go outside to talk to on the cell. If you already got somebody pregnant, don't you think you should calm down on the sex? Like I said, this is not every black man, just the ones I have experienced recently.

White men usually do not fuck around like that unless they are completely unattached, and when I mean unattached, I mean if they do have a girlfriend or someone their seeing, its about to end real soon. They are also very organized when it comes to a hookup. If they want to fuck you again, they'll let you know right then and there. And in some instances, let you know exactly when they want to do it again.

2. They're bigger givers in bed.
Don't get me wrong there are plenty of black men who are givers in bed, but some seem like their kind of indifferent about it. With a white guy, they will not get off unless you do, period.

So I guess the burning question, is have I completely crossed to the other side? The answer is no. I just generally find black men turn me on a lot more than white men. But at least now, I have something to compare it to.