Self Irritation

I am going to be honest right not.
I have been chatting with P on the phone more than I care to admit.
No excuses or tall tales. I just like him. He's my buddy.
I think.
I'm about 98% sure, but as you see, there is room for error.
I want to be more than his friend, as usual, and since I was jilted by my winter beaus, P is again on the brain.
Last night we talked and he irritated me, as usual. And speaking to him, it is SO easy to be irritated, seeing that since I like him, everything he says goes straight to heart. And I feel like he knows this, which frequently makes me wonder if he is being intentionally mean.
He says no, I'm not sold.
Amber said I shouldn't be his friend anymore- stop talking to him because it is best for me and my growth.
I don't want to. Subconsciously, I want to be there when he becomes the AMAZING man he is capable of being and when he snaps out of his stupid and sees that I am the girl for him.
I'm kidding myself.
I'm irritated with myself for going here again and feeling myself coming here again and not stopping myself.
Last night I think he may have reminded me that he doesn't like me like 10 times, and each time I felt a foot smaller.
He makes me dislike myself, but I can't imagine not talking to him because I like him so much and I like our friendship.
I have woken up with a dislike for me hangover.
Sigh. So irritated with me.

Nicki Minaj - New Music - More Music Videos

"Image Conscious"

Today, I had a little phone briefing with a woman that I work with. A very attractive woman at that. And we were talking about how I had gotten credentials to go to Miami Fashion Week. She asked me if I had ever been and I told her I hadn't, but I have been to Miami (LOVED IT!). I asked her if she had been and she said no, no to the show, not to the city, but she figured it would be like any other "full-scale fashion show." However, she told me to be careful because people in Miami are "image conscious." Image conscious? Image conscious? IMAGE CONSCIOUS! Say what?! I told her I didn't care, I went last year and was well received and she was like "Well..."
Grunt. GRUNT! If I worried about how image conscious people were in the world around me, I would just crawl in a hole and die. Die! I don't know a lot about a lot of stuff, but I do know that I have come to far in my career (transcribing and doing busy work at internships), and in my life and with my own self-esteem, to be hinted at in a pretty tone by a pretty lady that I am too fat or too ugly or too whatever and to be weary when working because people are image conscious!
I am fat. True dat. No denyin'. I am often the fattest person at the events that I go to. Whatever. And yes, I am totally aware and I am totally aware that those around me are aware, no biggy. I make contacts, and do what I need to do, fat in all!
Am I mad at my co-worker? Naw. People in Miami are image conscious. I am just irritated that she felt the need to warn me, as if I'm oblivious of my own size, and I am annoyed that she would think it mattered enough to me to be warned! As Lauren would say *Kanye Shrug*. Guess she just doesn't know me that well.

Pressure - Love and Affection

The Negris on the Moon

The negris on the moon/ she floated there on a balloon/ the real world was too confining/ so she went to space to keep in tune/and out there in the universe/ sipping a mojito with her "Gucci" purse/it is easier for her to be herself/ because life isn't so morbid and rehearsed/ The negris on the moon, fragrant lotion in case she peels/ fake eyelashes and knock off heels/ maybe all that time in outer space will reacquaint her with being real

New Chapters

JuJuBe is in Africa, Dorothy is doing her rotations in Hawaii, Haynes is engaged, and Gia Tortilla is moving back to New Orleans to enjoy parental free living for a second. Spring is on the way, and it looks like new chapters are coming to pass in everyone's life. Shockingly, I am not hatin' as hard as I usually do. I am just extra excited to see what my chapter has in store for me:) I believe this is what they refer to as growth.

Adventures at AT&T

I broke my phone charger like a klutz, and like an idiot, I ordered a charger online and it was not compatible with my phone. This lead to a much dreaded trip to the AT&T store.

Interior-Day: Holly sits on the AT&T waiting bench next to an old woman that is complaining about a phone that she is not sure is broken because she does not know how to use it. Holly is slightly aroused by how the only good looking and heterosexual male agent is remaining calm with this HIGHLY annoying old bag. Holly is a weee bit annoyed at how everyone who has come in after her is getting seen first, particularly a very bottom heavy woman in leggings who is NOT succeeding in getting her wife beater to stay over her hips.
Enter stage left: A tall, buff, light-skinned brotha that looks like he has been taking his aerobics classes in prison. He looks over iPhone cozies before heading to the hippy lady, apparently his girlfriend, to rush her. He is going on and on about how he wants to go work out and she is taking too long. (It is later revealed that the delay has come because AT&T was alerted that hippy lady's credit card was not hers, but had earlier been reported stolen).
Finally, cute gay guy in pink button down asks Holly why she has been waiting so long and immediately exchanges her charger. It does not take as long as it should have because he did not feel like calling customer service. Holly can only laugh at his activator and "Chanel" earrings- those earrings with the back to back Cs.
Exterior-Day: Holly leaves AT&T store, annoyed that she had to leave her house on a cold Friday, but happy her exchange was not as exhausting as it could have been.

Just A Question

I wonder how may hours of my life I spend crying? Crying for myself, crying for other folks? I would imagine that it is atleast 8 times more time than I spend praying. Just sayin'.

King with the Queens

I don't know what you did this past Martin Luther King day, but I spent it nibbling on breakfast muffins with a whole bunch of gay and transgender folks and I must say...IT WAS AWESOME!
And it's not just because of the breakfast part (because you all know how much I enjoy a complimentary continental). A lesi homie of mine invited me to the Bayard Rustin/ Audre Lorde Breakfast because she has done work with one of the event sponsors, AID Atlanta. The theme was resilience, and the panel discussed dealing with being gay and being resilient in the eye of being misunderstood and attacked and murdered. I am SO happy I got to go. I met some cool folks, and also, the egg casserole was on point! I can't place what was in it that made it kind of cake like- cornbread mix or grits. Either way, it was bomb.
You should have seen me in there guys. I was taking notes. There was so much I just wasn't aware of and so much I would like to help with. Hopefully, when I go next year, I would have actually contributed something to the cause.

In Need Of Aid

My brother has to come up with 7gs by 5 O'clock today or he is getting kicked out of school.
This whole week has been INTENSELY stressful, helping him fill out loans and arguing with my mom. Some kind of way, she has found a way to blame this whole situation on me. Of course.
I really don't want my brother to have to come home. It's one thing to have to leave school because your grades were shitty, but because you couldn't pay? Yuck!
The only good thing about this situation is that by 5 today we will know what is up, no more waiting.
This whole situation stinks.

Despicable Me

Readers, you would have loved to see me last night. I was a sight for sore eyes.
I was wearing my black evening dress because I have nothing else clean, and I chugged Minute Maid Fruit Punch out of the 2 liter, while, of course, eating Spicy Sweet Chili Doritos and Butterfingers interchangeably...while watching Golden Girls reruns on Youtube. This morning, I am feeling like crud. My face is a zit pizza, and I have no energy. Yes, I have a junk food/menstruation hangover. Let's name that junkstration. I am suffering from junkstration this morning...big time.
The remedy: water for most of the day. I am even going to the pool to try to burn off an ounce of the Dorito fat that will undoubtedly taking up shop on my hips by tomorrow morning if I don't nip the process in the bud. So later readers, off to the gym I go. Happy Sunday.

Greggory and Friends

When the Orkin man came out to the house a few months ago to inspect, he said that we have mice, and if we did not utilize his services...QUICK...were were going to have a major infestation because Winter was on the way, and they were going to totally take up shop in our attic more than they have been. Instead of paying him the $100+ bucks to fix the situation, Connie tossed a couple of poison pelates up in the attic and we had peace for about two days.
Fast forward to today, a few days after a major snow storm. It sounds like a professional cheer squad is practicing in the attic. If there are only mice in the attic, I estimate that they have to be the size of rabbits. I really just don't want to see one. Really.

The Case of the Missing Roomie

So a little over a week ago, after Cinnamon came home from work, she sat in my room to get warm and told me that the next night, when she got home, she was going to let me put curl formers in her hair. That was the last time I saw her.
Her clothes are still here. Her stuff is still here. She even bought a little bit of food, and that is still in the fridge (whatever is left of it I didn't eat). She has literally vanished.
She and my other roommate, Connie, work together, and she says that Cinnamon, or someone pretending to her, has been calling out of work. Connie also said that her manager said that if she sees Cinnamon to send her to his office. A few weeks ago, when she was still staying here but was off of work, the sheriff came to her job looking for her. Now she is getting all these weird letters from a law office.
This is strange. Whenever she goes to visit her mom or her boyfriend, she lets us know before she leaves. Connie thinks that she is in jail. Last night we went in her room to see what she left, and it was only a few items of clothes, cleaning items, and the Wii she won at her job's Christmas party. Connie took her pads, and I think we should sell the Wii. Either way, if she is not back by this time next month, we are packing up her stuff and looking for a new roomie, which totally sucks. I liked her and miss talking to her. I hope she is OK...and not locked up.

A Snow Job

Connie and I have officially been locked in the house for two days. I fear that if the roads aren't clear enough for her to go to work and for me to simply take my daily trek to the mailbox, our house will quickly become a scene from The Shining.
At first the snow was pretty, and the kids were outside playing, and it was a welcome change from our usual boring winters. But yesterday felt different. You could feel that people were pissed and annoyed that they couldn't get to work and that their kids got yet another day out of school.
Unfortunately, Connie and I had to venture out of the house to go get toilet paper. She fell, and we witnessed a truck roll backwards when trying to accelerate up a very small hill. A five minute walk to the drugstore took 30 minutes each way, and when I walked in the house, I fell to my knees and kissed dry land!
I thought I would take a break from my frozen life and turn on CNN. Big mistake. The news just kept playing reels of Southerners acting like goofs, rolling around in the snow like it was gold; oohing and ahhing at it in their hands like they had never even heard of it.
I want my mail. The garbage can is full and needs to be picked up. I want to walk to the drugstore without needing skis. It is time for the snow to melt.

Johnny Gill - Rub You the Right Way (the original video)

Snow Day, Bloody Snow Day

Today it snowed in Atlanta. It was only a couple of inches, but those couple of sad inches have canceled everything! The city buses are delayed and the kids don't have school. Gotta love snow in the south.

The Call

So Boy I Went On Date With's ex-beau called me, demanding to know if there was something going on between he and I.
Well, he called and passed her the phone.
She was quite respectful, more respectful than girls are known to be in these situations, and simply wanted to know what was going on. I told her the truth: nothing is going on.
He called me the next day and apologized for the whole situation.
All I could do is shrug. Number one, I have NEVER been the girl to get the highly dreaded "Is you doin' my dude?" call and don't care to be. Number two, I can't be mad at her. If my two months of dating in Wonderhell has taught me anything, it's that boys can make you say and do some stupid and seemingly crazy things.

Plan B

I talked to a friend of mine this morning and he was scared that he got a girl pregnant. You know the story: while having sex with a girl that he didn't care about, the condom broke...twice. So he was panicking, seeing that the chances he got her knocked up were pretty heavy: her Nuva Ring wasn't in and there was "pre-cum" involved. Being the voice of reason that I am, I demanded to know if he had considered Plan B. They are on there way to the drug store as I type.
Isn't it funny how little oopsie daisies could land you in a sticky situation? I think about the girl. A girl I don't know and have never seen. I wondered if when she laid on her back yesterday or woke up this morning she new she would be being rushed to the neighborhood CVS to terminate a potential baby? One by a guy who DOES NOT by any means want to be her baby daddy and regrets boning her to begin with?
Yikes.
Yet another confirmation that I should continue to keep my ankles crossed.

The Spider, The Snake, and The Frog

So I went to the Avenue yesterday and found these adorably adorable, tacky, and cheap rings in a jar marked $2.99. I bought three: a frog, a spider, and a snake. I have decided that they are my new favorite things.

The Police- Every Little Thing She Does is Magic

Adventures in Hairland

So Dorothy put my hair on curl formers. It looks really cute, and I am excited to have found something else cool that can be done to my hair. The down part: there is no way that I see myself having the patience to put the formers in my hair or learn how to do it. But I like the end result.

The Clean-Up

As you all know, I have a problem with getting rid of old and unneeded numbers. I would go as far as to say that it's a phobia. But it has gotten to the point that I either literally don't know who a contact is or I get mad when I see a contact's name.
I have 272 contacts in my phone. The goal is to get down to 25 by the end of the day. I will let you know how it goes. I fear that after I erase a number I will have a tantrum like the people on Horders do as they watch the people throw away a five year old empty box of cereal. Hopefully, I won't completely lose it.

The Twilight Zone

Today The Twilight Zone marathon is continuing on Syfy! And I am talking the original black and whites, not those horrible '80s remakes.
I don't know what it is that I love more about this show most: the unbelievably dramatic acting, the old school actors I can recognize from other shows, the racial mockery, or the ridiculous situations portrayed in each episode! All I can say is that it is awesome! Awesome and hypnotizing.
Cinnamon wants to watch The Game marathon, so I feel like we are going to fight, lol, even though it is her TV. I only get to see back to back episodes of craziness once a year. Once! This is an annual deal: how can you go into the new year without The Twilight Zone?