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Laid-out by nOva
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Mr. Bill Collector 05.26.04
09:21 PM • 10 comment(s)permalink

Area code 404. That's the first thing I saw when my phone rang late this afternoon at work. I answer in my cute at work voice and the young man on the other end of the phone asks for me. Not sure of who this perosn was, or how much money he wanted me to pay on some past due account, I told him I wasn't there and asked if he'd like to leave a message. He says, "Yes, this is Mau--" I says, "Haaaaaaay Karsh! How you be? You know I thought you was a bill collector, right?" I really need to get these accounts up to date so I can stop ducking and dodging people. Pretty soon won't nobody call me cause I keep tellin they asses I'm not available.

Ya'll lemme tell you, Karsh sounds HELLA. SEXY. on the phone. I really wasn't expecting him to sound like that. I was expecting Karsh to sound a bit more gravely and surely, kinda like Mr. Burns on speed. I could fuck the shit out of his voice alone. Yes lawd jeebus I could. I'm considering doing an audio blog so all ya'll bitches can hear my voice. It's not what you think it to be.....

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The Plantation 05.24.04
07:25 PM • 7 comment(s)permalink

Man, man, man last week was a long hellified week. I was so happy when Friday rolled around. I've been in really good spirits since I recently dissolved a toxic situation in my life and I'm ready to move forward.

My financial situation is about to look a little better. Not much, but a little. I plan to pay off one of my credit cards with the check I get from the candle store this week. Actually, that's what every check from the candle store is gonna be used for: getting me out of debt.

Friday was hard for me. Boss Lady was at it yet again. This errand girl shit has gotten old. Like five minutes ago old. After the three meeting attendees filed in, she says to me, "I need you to take a lunch order for everyone." I immediately felt the bile rise in my throat cause she'd never ask Groovy, the other admin in the office to do no shit like that. Yeah, I'd get a free lunch but the shit runs so much deeper than that. I'm not a waitress. I'm not a servant. I don't expect to be treated as such. The shit I do for this little bitty paycheck is wearing me down mentally and physically.

Weight loss is starting to go very well for me. I lost 6 lbs since I last stepped on the scale about two weeks ago. I'm very happy about that. My efforts aren't in vain. Elmo was kind enough to point out the fact that my pants are sagging in the back. Thanks, homie. It aint like I had a whole lot of ass to begin with. My stomach is shrinking too. The stretch marks (yeah I got em, and whut?) aren't stretched out any more. I can also see where the fat is breaking up. That looks kinda gross, but progress isn't always attractive. This is definitely a motivator for me.

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Fat People Have Opinions Too 05.17.04
11:20 PM • 16 comment(s)2 trackback(s)permalink

"By reading your blog no one would ever know you're overweight. You write with such confidence."

This comment was made to me recently and I found it very interesting. I didn't find it offensive, nor do I believe that was the intent. It's interesting none the less.

Self-acceptance has been a long journey for me, as it as been for many Black women. Some women never reach their comfort zone. I'm not completely there, but I'm very close and better off than some. I've been fat/chubby/overweight/chunky my entire life. I used to hate me: my color, my fat, my nose and my hair. Absorbed in such self hatred, I'd never leave the house. I didn't want to be seen. I didn't want people to talk to me. Well, I still don't want people to talk to me cause most have proven to be jackasses, yet I digress.

I stumbled upon self discovery after I had my son, the product of volatility and deceit. Forfeiting my scholarship to art school was painful and facing raising a black male alone was even more so. I remember standing in the bathroom in front of the mirror trying to reduce the swelling in my lactating breasts. I looked up into the mirror and looked myself in the eye. That was the most difficult thing I've ever done, year-to-date. That was the first time ever I addressed and admitted to my fears, failures and hopes. That was the first time I'd ever seen the glimmer of beauty within me, the bit I had left after the abuse I inflicted upon myself and also allowed others to inflict upon me. I liked the way it looked and felt, so pure and innocent. I cut my tracks out and washed my hair, scrubbed it hard, in an attempt to wash away any self loathing that resided any where between the cornrows and thread. I was 19 years old.

Fast forward to 2k4. I'm 23, coming up on 24. Somewhere between Baby Daddy 2 and the Ubiquitous Married Lover, I came into my own. Married men are shit, however, I learned a lot from him. He allowed me to see everything I do and don't want in a man. That disgusting situation presented me with the reality of self worth. I took it, walked away and never looked back.

My weight, color or height does not define me. The label inside my shirt and purse do not define me. My character and integrity define me, which is something that can not be compromised, exchanged or refunded. I like the woman I've developed into thus far and look forward to completing my journey as a self-assured Black woman.

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Niggas and Flies: The More I See Niggas, The More I Like Flies 05.14.04
02:31 PM • 6 comment(s)permalink

I'm single. I've been single for a minute. There's nothing out here that's interesting. I do have my eye on one dude, but eh, I don't think he's available to me. Don't ask me how I know cause I don't feel like explaining.

The other day while I was slangin candles, I saw a dude I used to go to high school with. He was always cute but he's damn fine now. I'm saying though. He's just so...short. I think my daughter is taller than he is. For real. We exchanged the general "What's up" and "How you doin?". I hugged him. He held on just a little too long for my liking. Here it comes..."So ~SunRay~, when Imma get to holler atchu??" I mentally rolled my eyes. This dude was never checking for me before, why start now? That was a lil shady to me so I had to ask, "Where you stay at?" I really hope he hasn't fed this dumb ass line to another chick and she actually fell for it. This bastid said, "I'm staying with my baby muva, but it ain't like that." Aint. Like. That. Then what is it like? Ass. This ass he won't be getting. For the life of me, I don't understand why men expect me to take whatever bullshit, jenky, trifling, situation they want to put me in for their own satisfaction. I'm not feeling that. I'm not going to be used as an escape from reality or available pussy for anybody. Not happening. I think way too much of myself to let that shit happen. Again.

There's a new reader droppin through Ya'll heard bout him before. Elmo. Yep, big eyed Elmo with the edible ass. *fans self* I know, I know, I know. Shit could get messy. He asked for it so it's his own damn fault.

In news of the weird, yesterday, I received a strange call. When I looked at the caller id here on my work phone, I felt like I should know the number displayed cause it looked familiar. I answer in my perky at work voice and the person on the other end asks for me. I didn't recognize the voice, thinking it was a bill collector so I told him I wasn't in. He declined to leave a message. After I hang up, this dude calls RIGHT. BACK. There was bout to be a problem cause I already tole this muhfukka I wasn't in. This time he decides he wants to leave a message. Guess who it was. King Sexy himself with a sweet southern drawl! He done looked up my work number online and found me. I was too done. I was relieved too. I really didn't feel like gettin all Sheniquafied having to cuss somebody out. I was so tickled by this. In a weird please don't stalk me way.

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Life In the Hood 05.12.04
09:39 AM • 7 comment(s)permalink

I live in a residential hood. I'm okay with that. The dudes up the street like to hang on the block. I don't like it, but I can deal. In the early hours right before dawn, I can hear faint gun shots. Some of them "pop-pop-pop" like a standard 9 millimeter; others sound like "blauw-blauw-blauw" or "rat-a-tat-tat", the spray of more powerful machinery. I don't like it, but I'm used to it.

It's unnerving how desensitized I've become to what has become common occurences in areas that have little hope, broken families and displaced dreams. It's a way of life. For this reason, I was unable to empathize with my boss regarding the 8 year old girl that was killed by a stray bullet in North East, DC, just a few streets away from me. It's unfortuante this child's life was taken from her because of a petty argument some dudes were having. That's how life is lived in hood. My heart hurts because it isn't impossible for that to become of my daughter one day, possibly playing in the streets or watching tv as some ignorant men (or women) skwabble over an insignificant point. I do fear for my children. I'm used to it. That's how life is lived in the hood.

My boss, in her upper middle class glory, suggested I move to a safer neighborhood. Safer? Boss Lady, I know you mean well, but you know better. You understand the fuction of economics. You understand the function of class. You're also aware of my salary, therefore, your suggestion is futile. $14 and blah blah cents an hour ain't gonna take me to far. Georgetown don't want me. Kalorama don't want me. Dupont Circle don't want me. I'm in the hood where I belong. I don't have a partner with an income similar to mine who can offset my financial shortcomings. I can't just pack up and move when the block gets hot. I'm used to it.

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I Was Dreaming When I Wrote This; Forgive Me if It Goes Astray 05.08.04
09:17 AM • 10 comment(s)permalink

If you're looking to be entertained today, you've come to the wrong place. This post is more of a macabre nature. If you're feeling squeemish or the least bit brain dead, don't expand the entry. If you're nosey like I know most of you are, gon' head and keep reading.

I don't want to dream any more. Neva eva again in life. For the longest I've always had two different kinds of dreams: subconscious dreams that replay the bullshit I put forth during the daylight hours, and the surreal dreams, the ones I wish I never had.

I never understood the latter of the two. Snipets of dreams, they tend to be black and white or color and very disconnected. What's so bizarre about this particular type of dream is that's it's though I'm actually in the place displayed in my mind. All of my senses are much sharper: I'm sensitive to light and touch, I can hear (sometimes) and smell things. I can feel emotions. They're always very vivid and I always remember them. There are three particular scenarios that have stood out in my mind over the years, because I'm guessing they're turning points.

1). Buying my house. I saw this house in my dreams several years ago. In my dream, I woke up in a very large but stuffy room. I felt like I couldn't breathe and reached over to open a window. I remember that feeling. It was the same feeling I had my first nite here. The house and been closed up for so long it was stuffy and the residue from the contractors work agrravated my sinuses. The lot number for this house is 0826, the same as my birthday. I live around the corner from my grandmother's old house. I still haven't figured out why I've been led to this spot.

2) Beefing with the boss's husband. That man is a monumental pain in my ass. I remember trying to help him print his presentation the correct way and he and I couldn't agree for shit. I asked him about some program function and his replay was, "It's in the enviromnent." That wasn't helpful, being that I didn't know what the hell he was talking about. I saw that situation already, not sure how long ago. I remember the office, the emotions and even the smell from the dream I had.

3). I'm going to die. We all know we're going to die at some point, but I'm going to die soon. I saw it. I could smell it. I actually felt my spirit leave my body. She just kinda heaved herself out of my body, kinda how I heave myself out of bed when I don't want to go to work. The lighting in this dream was so bright. I was lying on a metal table with a lot of people around me. My guess is I was having some sort of operation. Maybe I'd been shot. Maybe I had a heart attack. There was no way to determine the cause. I saw me looking at me. I remember thinking, "I've always done my best." I also remember thinking of my kids and hoping they'd be okay, which makes me believe at that point in the dream, they hadn't reached legal age.

I've always wondered why I live so hard, so fast. Why do I have a way of getting what I want? How do I manage to come out of situations, virtually unscathed? I don't have answers for any of these questions. The most logical answer I can give is that my life's been predetermined for me. I've been given the ability to see bits of my life before it happens. I've seen my own death, and yes, I've been disturbed by it. I don't like this. I'd rather not know.

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Wore Out 05.06.04
09:24 AM • 1 comment(s)permalink

Lawd, lawd, lawd I is tiyud. With a capital D. This two job thing got old like, yesterday. I'm really not feeling this place, but I gotta make it work cause I need the cash. BAD. I head the child support division here in good ole DC is hiring and I shole is gonna apply. Imma find Baby Daddy 1 and collect on his bitch ass gobment style. Chea!

It's funny how people make ASSumptions about you based on how you look and what they think you are. Closet Queen, my manager at the new gig also has part time gig as a DJ playing country music at some small radio station. Because I'm a young black woman, he just ASSumed I'm into Pop and R&B. He had a nice shade of shock on his face when I told him I prefer rock over anything and proceeded to spit heat on my favorite bands and what makes them good. How bout asking me what my preferences are instead of making assuptions on demographics? Too much like right, eh?

Earlier, my daughter informed me that I received a piece of mail addressed to KiaSunRay, which is my IM handle. I found that to be quite bizarre. Since I wasn't expecting anything from Grayse or King Sexy, I had no idea who it could be. I told her to open it up (she and I were on the phone) to see what it was and who it was from. She said it was a card with a flower on it with a letter inside. Creepy indeed. When I get home, I remember I have to check out this obscure card and letter. Damn, wouldn't you know, it's a letter from my ex's friend, who has been trying to get with me every since we met. He's a cool brother, but I could never go there. Why? Cause 1). He's looking for a jailhouse penpal (emphasis on PEN) and 2). He's my ex's FRIEND. I'm not scandelous like that. I mean ew. So of course I told this ex that his boy sent me a card and letter. Um...mainly for my own amusement and I knew he'd be jealous. Okay, I'm a bitch, and whut? Wanna know his response? "Well tell him you left me and your man in jail, go wait for him." ROFLSAB (rolling on the floor laughing smackin a bitch). This was the funniest shit I heard in a long time. It made my day.

Had another session with Elmo yesterday. (Why don't he just break me off already?) He had me walking up and down the Stairs of Doom when I decided I needed a rest. Thinking I'm leaning against the wall, I almost lean against the emergency exit, which will trigger an alarm. I told him if the alarm went off, I'd just blame it on him. He said he'd have no choice but to take the blame. Fuck naw he wouldn't have a choice. He'd have to prove he didn't do it. Chea! As I'm stomping up and down the stairs, ya'll know this nigga had the nerve to ask me what would I do in an emergency. Would I a) drop the weights, leave em on the steps and run or b) take the weights with me. I told him I'd give the weights to him. This jenky bastid said that won't be an option cause my trainer would be gone. Chivalry is dead indeed! This muhfukka would just run and lee me if some shit went down. That's a nigga for ya.

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I Luh Mah Asian 05.04.04
10:04 AM • 7 comment(s)permalink

EvilAsianX was gracious enough to pay me a visit yesterday. I hadn't seen her since she started her new job and she's doing a lot better now. She's trynna get me hooked up with a job in her department. That company is asking for trouble, straight up.

I really enjoy having a diverse set of friends. It's helped me broaden my view of the world. It's also shown me that there are many issues that transcend all races and aren't exclusive property of black people. Misery sho' loves company.

When she arrives, of course she's ready to be fed. I've grown accustomed to cooking for friends since most of mine can't cook anything but Ramen noodles and hot dogs. I told her we were having sloppy joes and fries. By this time I've finished draining the hamburger and ready to get this started. I grab the tomato paste and chili sauce. She's baffled and asked, "Where's the Manwich?" **GASP** Man. Wich. ?? I explain to her that we don't do Manwich (that nasty shit) in this house and show her how to really throw down on some sloppy joe. Something so simple can actually be artful. I found it interesting that her exposure to differnt cooking styles is very limited. Well, in retrospect, I guess it would be limited if you ate rice for every meal. I always learn something new when I hang with her.

Had a training session with Elmo yesterday. Um....yeah. This dude is getting a little to personal for my liking. While I'd definitely like to hit that at least once, I am making an effort to keep this as a business relationship. Last week I let it go when he inquired about my vibrator and masturbation methods. I'd say that convo took a turn for the bizarre when he wanted to know what color it was. What the fok?

Yesterday he decides he wants to know bout the kids' fathers. Why, oh why? I never mention these cats to anybody. Not a subject I like to discuss and as far as I'm concerned, they're dead. These dudes don't have nothing to do with my training program. An argument could be made ( I suppose) that they can affect my spiritual and emotional health, which can trigger eating, I'm not buying that one.

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Mindless TMI MEME 05.01.04
08:35 AM • 7 comment(s)4 trackback(s)permalink

Today I'm interrupting provocative, articulate posting for another bullshit meme. (If King Sexy would stop exposing me to such junk, I'd stop doing it).

(x) I Have Been Drunk
(x) I Have Smoked Pot
( ) I Have Done Cocaine
( ) I Have Done Other Drugs
( ) I Have Thrown Up In A Bar
(x) I Have Flashed Someone
( ) I Have Posed Nude
(x) I Have Purchased Pornography
(x) I Have Been Caught Masturbating
(x) I Have Pissed On Myself
(x) I Have Kissed A Member Of The Opposite Sex
(x) I Have Kissed A Member Of The Same Sex
(x) I Have Made Out With A Stranger
( ) I Have Gone On A Blind Date
(x) I Have Been In Love
(x) I Have Been Dumped
(x) I Have Had Sex
(x) I Have Had Anal Sex
(x) I Have Had Sex In Public
(x) I Have Had Sex With A Member Of The Same Sex
( ) I Have Had Sex With A Co-Worker
( ) I Have Had Sex At The Office
( ) I Have Had Sex In A Dressing Room
(x) I Have Had Sex At A Friend's House During A Party
( ) I Have Had Sex / Hooked Up With A Friend's Sibling
( ) I Have Gotten Someone Drunk To Have Sex With Them
(x) I Have Had Sex With More Than 1 Person In The Same Week
(x) I Have Had A Threesome (see above)
(x) I Have Received Scars From My Sex Partner
( ) I Have Been Married
( ) I Have Been Divorced
( ) I Have Snuck Out Of My Parent's House
( ) I Have Cut Myself On Purpose
( ) I Have Killed Someone
( ) I Have Purposely Set A Part Of Myself On Fire
( ) I Have Crashed A Friend's/Mom's Car
(x) I Have Shoplifted
(x) I Have Stolen Something From My Job
(x) I Have Been Fired
(x) I Have Been In A Fist Fight
( ) I Have Been Tied Up
(x) I Have Been Arrested (I prefer the term DETAINED)
(x) I Have Ridden In A Taxi
(x) I Have Lied To A Friend
(x) I Have Skipped School
(x) I Have Had A Crush On A Teacher
( ) I Have Celebrated Mardi-Gras In New Orleans
( ) I Have Celebrated New Years In Time Square
( ) I Have Been To Japan
( ) I Have Been To Europe
( ) I Have Been Snowboarding
(x) I Have Eaten Sushi

[edit] Cause it's 4 AM and i don't have shit else to do with my time, i decided to find my Pimp Name. Sweet Chocolate Sun Slither is who i is. Who you be? Found it here[/edit]

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