Virgo: Rationally, you know what's happening now is probably best for you and that it's okay if a romance has cooled into a routine arrangement. It's possible that the passion isn't really gone; it's simply transforming into a more stable energy. Avoid temptations to withdraw into yourself. Rather than building a relationship on fantasy, make a commitment to create real love.
This horroscope from AOL is very accurate. My weekend was a learning experience. I'm learning a lot about myself and relationships. This weekend, I was ready to end mine. Or what's left of it, anyway.
It's always been my position that I never wanted to be in a relationship. I need to "work on me" and I prefer to do that alone. I met this man at a very akward and uncertain time in my life. I figured he was placed in my path for a reason and went with it.
Leaving him has been in the back of my mind for bout...5 months now. That's practically half the time period we've been together. Reading my horroscope has made me view things slightly different. There's another approach I'm supposed to take. Personal growth isn't easy.
When there's a situation (namely a person) I don't want to deal with, I get ghost real, real quick like. I won't interact with em at all and become real introverted. (As if I could be anymore of an introvert). I have to stop doing that.
 aaaaaaaand he likes fiddy sint! ugh! [/edit]
My light bulb just went off....and it's flashin. HARD!
I'm more than confidend I know who gave BD2 my work number. I pulled the IP address...yeah. Best believe I will find em and beat the breaks off they bitch ass. Things are never what they seem.
If it's war they want, it's war they shall receive.
This shit is on.
It's real innerestin how that God dude puts stuff in our paths. In this post I discuss how far I'll extend myself for people who well deserve it.
The good Lawd threw me a serious curve ball last Monday.
I walk into work Monday morning, business as usual. Once seated at my desk, I noticed there were two missed calls on my phone, but no voicemails. Curious, I scroll through and check the number. 702....that area code is so familiar. I Google an area code finder to look it up. Vegas. We don't have an office in Vegas.
I call my mother to have her look the number up in my phone book. It's exactly who I suspected: BD2. This nigga done some how got my work number. Unnerved, I call my attorney to ask him if he put my contact info on any of the documents filed. He also finds it strange, being that I don't speak to BD2 nor did he respond to the custody case. He asks me to keep him informed.
I send an email to BD2 and call his house. His wife answers. Apparently, they're on the verge of divorce and he doesn't live there. We exchange plesantries, nothing major. She asks to take a message; I ask her to tell him to call me.
A couple hours later she calls and tells me she got cussed out for asking why he called me. She informs me that she's changing her number and he's no longer allowed to use her phone and I should not call again. Not sure why she called to tell me that, but okay.
The next day, I receive a long superfluous about how he's lost everything with his wife and may return to the DC area. Okay, if he returns, he might be useful to my son in some fashion. If he doesn't, eh, so what. But yeah, bust this:
I think he said what I think he said. This nigga just all the way asked me if he could live in my house. A man that's made a career out of livin off women. This dude who half ass takes care of his kid, expects me to open my home to him. Um, yeah. That God dude got jokes. Big time. Imma need for dude to show me where this is my prollem.
I talked to the Fix It Guy about it.
Him: Maybe he needs a place to live.
I KNOW this mf aint suggest that I let The Great American Gigolo stay in my home, with my kids, one of which he created and doesn't support. He crazy as hell. The last thing I need is some dead weight ass nigga.« ... now bounce.
"Who's gonna try and make me happy?", is the current status message on my ex's Yahoo! messenger. What a turn off. Yeah, he's an ex for a reason.
It is such fallacy to believe that another person can make you happy. They can add to your happiness, yes. Can they make you happy...hm, I find that questionable.
Happiness starts within you. If you look to someone else to make you happy, you'll be greatly disappointed.
Generally, I'm a cantankerous bitch. Hey, it's part of my charm. I like being fussy and arbitrary, just cause I can. Who's gonna say something about it? To my face, that is. Nodamnbody.
However, there are a few people in this world I have a soft spot for. I would give them anything they asked for: the shirt off my bag, the weave in my head or the booga in the corner of my eye. Just any ole thing. They don't even know who they are. Heh. I'm keeping it that way too.
Then there's the more than few I can't stand. If they were standing on a ledge contemplating suicide, I'd encourage them to jump: "You might as well you triflin bastid. Aint like you useful to anybody livin!" But hey, that's just me.
I've tried to be more tolerant of people. Everybody is different and can add value to the world in some way. But, fuck that "We Are the World" bullshitery; niggas get on my nerves. I'm very happy to have the close few I have (except you Prime. I hate you.). Meeting new people is so scary. You gotta determine how crazy they are, if they steal, if they snort coke. Too much damn work.
I hate new year's resolutions. I think they are a gargantuan waste of time. If you're serious about change, why wait for a new year? Make change when you realize you doin some shit that needs to be changed. Everyday is an opportunity for change. Bullshitters.
What asscrumb coined the phrase "Get my grown man/woman on"? I absolutely hate them for it. Now we got all these poot butt mfs runnin round here sayin that shit. If you doin you, great. Do just that. Nobody cares to hear you declare the shit every other sentance. Furthermore, if you find it necessary to broadcast said message, how "grown" are you, really? If you are truly grown, your actions will reflect that. There'll be no need to broadcast for everybody else.
After I graduated high school, for a long time I wondered at what point should I begin referring to boys as men. Last week the mailroom dude said, "You the most hard workin girl I know." Girl? G. I. R. L. Do thine ears deceive me? He actually referred to me as a girl. I smirked and said "Thanks". WTF is that?
It has taken a full 26 years for me to be able to effectively discern the difference between boys, men, girls and women. Maybe he hasn't reached that level of maturity. Men and women have a different air about them than boys and girls do. I guess immaturity has no age limit.