icecream scoops…

this is a PSA for people who love to dole out shit talking but when they are scooped some of their own they cant take it.

yes, bitch, this is about you.

and it will be THEE last time i address this subject.

i hear your cheap shots, i hear all your trash talk. i know what i did wrong.  i crossed a line that’s invisible. the one that “good friends” dont cross.  but really by that time we werent good friends. we got high and we got drunk together. we used each other to get high.  in my book we werent friends. in his book he used you to get to me.

now i know you think you are some special thing that cant be beat.

oh boohoo i gave my heart to him and he left me for her. and shes not even that pretty.  um…sure you no eyebrow havin bitch.  we laughed about you. and apparently my pussy IS better. cuz i dont think nan one of them that LEFT you to come fuck with me went BACK to you.

but…..youre obnoxious. youre loud. you breath stinks because you smoke and drink and refuse to chew gum. you say dumbass shit. you arent that ghetto fabulous, mexican, reggae princess, rockabilly chick you act(ed) like. in fact youre a scared girl who never got enough love from daddy so you act out to try and get love and approval from somewhere. im not psychoanalyzing you i used to know you and be around you. i wonder what your next role will be. what’s in style next year?

yeah, i was a whore. i fucked HELLA dudes. i fucked dudes you had fucked. i was wrong and did shit that wasnt the best thing to do. but my life caught up with me. i dont need a team to make me happy anymore. nor do i need to drain bottles or take other peoples meds. or try to kill myself to garner some sympathy.

sure, my skin is dry and scaley when i dont put lotion on. it’s called excezma. it’s something i have to live with. just like you having to live with not being able to have children. i mean shit take your cheap shots about my skin. whatever i will come at you hard, bitch.

yeah, im fat. from the looks of it…youre pretty god damned fat yourself. and i never made a big deal of it to you because i was being nice but your ass is flat and has dimples like crazy in it. i mean i know im fat but BITCH HAVE YOU REALLY LOOKED at yourself lately?

fucking your leftovers? every man in the sac scene that talks just right to you is your leftover by now im sure and frankly im above all that. i have real things to take care of in life. you should work on your mental health.

so light your fucking candles and say your rosaries. i hope god, jesus, mary and all the saints help you find your way out of being a stupid cunt.

your sexual freedom comes with a price.

i hear a lot of women and girls in their late teens and early twenties carry on about the number of men they sleep with at a particular time.

how they are always getting it and how everyone just wants them.  and how awesome it is.  how it’s more than just one person. how they are okay with a poly amorous lifestyle blah blah blah.

now, if youve read any of my blog you know im practicing this “dont be so quick to judge what ye have already done and dont do anymore” bullshit and i really am. so i will just call this my advice to young women and girls.  hell maybe even some of yall old heffas too.

you are not leading a new sexual revolution by fucking everything that hits on you.  hopping on two, three, four or five magic sticks a week is not you expressing your sexual prowess and oozing self confidence.  it’s saying you dont love yourself, you may not even like yourself and you damn sure are far from confident.  confidence comes from someplace other than the bedroom, the floor or however it is you score.

At a young age i felt i was doing something different by having MANY different partners and felt like i was something special that i could call up any number of people to come over and do our little thing.  I felt this way for quite sometime and now I couldnt tell you how many partners Ive had.  I just know that I am VERY lucky I do not have any VD, was only pregnant three times and was only raped once.

Yeah, only raped once. I feel lucky about that. And deep down I carry guilt for even being raped just once.  I mean, I allowed the two guys to have sex with me. But when things went further than what i wanted and the one wanted to perform an act i didnt want to have done it was done anyways while the other cheered him on. but that confident woman i was and the sexual revolution i was leading said to me that i kinda asked for it anyways and chalk it up to the game.

I find it hard to believe that we as women are really feeling fulfilled fucking every good looking man that we can.

I wasnt ever happy in my “relationships” where I fucked with so and so one day and someone else the next and him the next night.  I had the one person I wanted to be with but he didnt want me like that. And then Id meet the next person who might be it, but he wasnt it either.  I just dont think a “good relationship” can be built if youre in “relationships” with other people.

Im sure i sound like a book i wouldve hated reading a few years ago.  I sound like a mom.  eeew.

and i feel like im rambling a bit.  basically, i just think constant sexual talk and constant flaunting of promiscuity is really just a front of confidence.  i refuse to believe that we as women need to be a walking, talking xxx ad all the time. it’s gross and im sad i acted that way ever.

playing with fire

i dont know why but until recently i have been terrified of bbq grills and lighting them myself woodstoves and campfires also. and thought it doesnt rank really high on my list of things i like doing, i will do it.

as a child i was TERRIFIED of my house burning down and me losing all of my possessions and more than a few times i would wake up in the middle of the night and gather up all my stuffed animals and clothes and put them in a suitcase and go and sleep in my parents room.  this is when my mom and my sperm donor were still married, so i was young, very young.

when we lived with my grandparents as a child i always got freaked out when there were thunderstorms without rain because my grandma would get all wacky and carry on about the forest being dry and it being perfect conditions for a forest fire.  fuckin awesome to go on and on about in front of little kids who are worried about shit to begin with. *hifive for that one*

i saw a car burning up the street from our house and was terrified that it would explode and send our house up in flames as well. ehhhh that wasnt about to happen from a mile away. cars dont do that shit like on tv.

i always worried about cigarette butts that someone wouldnt put out or sawdust and fumes spontaneously igniting in my grandpas shop or just random fucked off things an 8 year old shouldnt worry about.

a few nights ago, i had a dream about spotting fire in my front yard. i live with my grandma again and we live on about 15 or 16 acres, and the fire service SUCKS out here.  i freaked and gathered everything i could but kept forgetting things and was so worried about getting away from the fire and getting my baby away from the fire and making sure i grabbed everything i needed. i dont know how it ended because i was probably woke up by amari wanting food.

the funniest thing about my fear of fire is that when i lived in kentucky i lived in an apartment complex that had about ten bldgs with four units in each of the buildings. the building across the court from mine caught on fire, six fire engines came to put out the blaze, ten or so people called my phone, the building burnt to the ground and i walked out themy front door the next morning and wondered what the fuck had happened…i didnt hear a damn thing.

looking forward and reflecting

i still amaze myself daily.

i mean, i walk outside, i drive somewhere and i have to sometimes remind myself i have this little human being that needs me and relies soley upon me.  it’s a strange thing for me to care about myself enough to take care of me and to care about myself enough to take care of someone else.

it still amazes me and it probably will for a long time.  yall gonna just have to deal with my uhhhh i cant think of the word but yall just gonna have to deal with it.

tonight i want to focus on me and some of the WONDERFUL things that are brewing in my life.  i write about a lot of crap but i feel like i cant just focus on the past i have to look towards my future and i have to keep digging myself out of the hole i fell into quite some time ago.

anyways…my baby girl is going to be six months old in just over a week and she is a moose!  she eats three meals a day (real food, well stage 2 food) and drinks anywhere from 32 oz to 40 oz a day (i used to drink like three of those a day so…not similac though) she is trying to crawl but hasnt quite figured it out yet she ends up scooting backwards, getting pissed off, and looking at me like it’s my fault.  i measured her yesterday with a tape measure and she is just about 27.5 inches. hilarious because i am 5 foot 5 on a good day.  she is laughing at me and smiles and talks to me, snuggles and just makes me so damned happy.  she doesnt sleep thru the night which is ROUGH. i dont think i have slept all night long more than twice in the last six months. but i wouldnt give it up for anything.

i will be starting school in september.  since graduating highschool (ten years ago) i have wanted to go to school for cosmetology and aesthetics.  finally i have the opportunity.  about half of my tuition will be covered by grants and i am taking out student loans for the rest as well as living expenses.  ill expound on that later.  so by september/october 2010 i will be able to take the state boards and be a licensed aesthetician and licensed in hair design.  i am NOT taking nails, i am soooo cool on doing toes and nasty fill ins.  but i will give a brazillian wax, go figure. if you’re getting your coochie maintained you probably have pretty good hygeine…toes on the other hand FUCK THAT.  after state boards i hope to get on with a salon that is awesome and work under talented people and perfect my skills.

with living expenses here is good news!!!!  when my name comes up for hud housing i will be set to live on my own, with marmar of course. free in my own household. like an adult.  or i can stay where i am and have hella money to save towards whatever i need to save for.  im wavering between having extra cash or having my own peace.  my peace may prevail.

while im excited about all these things i wish that my friends had the same opportunities.  i see people i love stuck in the same ole same ole and it makes me sad.  but then the selfish part of me knows that there is NOTHING i can do.  i had to do for myself and change things for myself and get rid of all the extra shit that i didnt need, move on and grow.

i feel like ive left so many people behind but i havent ive just moved to a different place in geography and in life.

i cant hold onto certain things any longer or i wont find new treasures…not meaning i have to throw them away by any means…just meaning i need to live in the now. and the future.

grounding high horses

i read a tweet sometime in the last few weeks and i think it was from, http://twitter.com/dopegirlfresh, and it was pertaining to how one shouldnt get so judgemental about others when we were there ourselves.  im sure it didnt say that exactly but that’s what i took from it and i wanted to credit her for making me think these past few weeks about that shit.  and think about it hard.

see thinking about it is easy. im hella quick to pass judgement now that my head is clear. hella quick to be like “you dumb bitch” and rant and rave in my head about people and the fucked up things they are doing and how they are dumb. what a whore they are. how one day they will realize how stupid they look. and it’s all shit i was doing too.  (well maybe not all of it but a great majority of it)

it makes me sad to see some of my friends still struggling with drugs and not knowing where to go in life, not having much of a purpose. but i also realize that nothing i can say will change what they are doing.  i mean ultimately the choice to live for yourself is your own.

but that’s not really who im talking about.  i can overlook what someone who i love does but i got all kinds of hate for someone i cant tolerate. and really in a world where i care about those i love i shouldnt overlook what my loved ones do. the excuses and the you know what it’s likes hurt me.

i understand now how a few of my friends didnt want to be around me in the end of my downward spiral.  it feels like aiding and abetting the death of that person you love. stealing their soul piece by piece and pretending you’re just borrowing it. i cant be around some people that i love because i cant see myself in them with the things they do to themselves.

putting my high horses to rest and not judging is hard because it makes me still look at the ugly things that i used to be and have worked to overcome…and i dont think ive reached the point where i can deal with all that smacking me in the face just yet.

but it does stay on my mind and i do try to practice it more and more. i fall most days.

but i keep trying.

i’ll be dat…

i dont think of myself as holding even a quarter of the hatred, angst, bitterness and just general fuck offed-ness attitudes and ways  that i held a year or so ago so maybe im just biased towards certain people and places and things about life still.

with that being said i absolutely abhor the term hater. and yet technically i suppose i am a hater in many ways.

but am i really?

i mean when certain people (more than just one or even two) are mentioned by friends of mine i follow at http://twitter.com or even famous people i dont know and wont ever know hell even news commentators:   i make the “that meat has been sitting in the hot ass sun for two weeks straight in a ziplock bag” face.  i just dont like certain people.

whatever happened to just not liking a muthafucka?

i am not jealous of these people.

i do not secretly wish to live their lives.

would i be mad if these people fell off the face of the earth? nah but it’s not going to affect my life either way if they dont

or how bout the people who’s music you think is wack?

how am i a hater because you make wack ass music?

i mean seriously i just dont understand that because i dont want to buy what you are selling. because i choose not to like your dumbass. or i know you’re an idiot from past experiences and wack as fuck….

bah…fuck it..i’ll be dat…in your mind.

my mind’s straight.

it’s the first of the month

i can hardly believe that a year of my life has already passed. it’s been the longest seeming year ever and the shortest seeming year at the same time. i dont know if that quite makes sense.

i think im going to resolve that my new year starts every year on june 1st.

i can say that the next year that passes will be one of great joy for me. i look forward to watching my daughter progress through her first year. each day with her is something new i cant believe that out of such a shitty experience in life a beautiful thing came about.

it’s so weird to think that just a year ago i was in a hotel room that i’d only gotten because it was the first of the month. the man at the time had run off on a thursday and had not called all weekend and i made it thru with food and places to stay thanks to two of my homeboys and a few sidejobs i pulled manuevering illegal shit around sacramento.

i sat in this hotel room and didnt even have the tears to cry about my situation. broke. homeless. jobless. boyfriend who knows where. hadnt ate for a few days beyond whatever my homies shared with me. and my nose ITCHED. fucking coke calling my name.

before scoring my mom and i talked and i told her things that had happened since my man had been released from jail. and my fucking fairytale dream i allowed him to sell me had long been gone.  i made plans to see her the next day and set the ball rolling to get the fuck away from sacramento for a while. just to see about some new opportunities or just to get away and relax and at least have a steady roof over my head.

the day i left. i left him high and dry. i dropped him off and cried the entire way to my mom’s house. tears could finally fall from my eyes at the experience id lived thru. i saw so much shit that i was just done with life. it was run or die inside and i knew that. i thought i loved him but i wanted to love me or at least try to love me.

id moved so many times in the last few years i dont even want to think about it.

i cant believe i have stayed in one place for an entire year. it’s nice not to have to run. to get away from whatever id left undone, unpaid or just fucked up.

in a year it’s amazing how you can gain back the value you feel for yourself. it’s amazing how running away for the last time can bring you back to yourself.

i like me now, hell i even love me. i dont need to quiet anything  that goes on in my head and i dont have evil cee in me telling me that im not good enough for the best anymore.

im headed back to sac for a visit in a week and im excited to see my friends but i will be happy as fuck that i dont live there anymore. im happy i ran.

hoes and housewives

before  i made the transition from a pale blonde flat chested, gapped toothed cute little girl into a young woman my sexuality was already compromised in a way that shaped it and still  shapes it today.

i hadn’t ever really thought about it. it’s one of those things that you dont know is wrong at a young age but you know you arent supposed to tell anyone about it either because no one is supposed to touch you or make you touch them on the bathing suit spots or see them except your mommy or the doctor.

the world of the internet is great for the reminders of what happened to come back and haunt you. albeit naked photos or videos or the person who assaulted you when you were between the ages of 7 and 10. it’s sick that this person comes back around and you feel those scared thoughts you used to when he would trap you in a room and make your hand touch him in his much older teenaged developed places and how sick it used to make you feel when they would snatch you into the bushes and rub their hands across your barely formed mosquito bite titties. it’s enough to make you mad when all they say is you were so cute then and all i remember is your blonde hair and cute little face, youre still cute now want to hang out? here’s my number.

and that sickening feeling hits you like a semi truck would a brick wall.

you dont respond because the only thing you feel is that feeling you felt when you were seven and confused and scared.

“so i guess you dont want to hang out. i’m a big boy i can handle the truth.”

you still dont respond because you realize this individual doesnt realize that you want to hurt him for the feelings you felt then and for the realization that what he did was VERY VERY wrong. and when you said no, it wasnt a silly game that two teens can play that yes means no. you were a young girl who had no fucking clue what much beyond playing with dolls and dress up was.

i know i am going in and out of you and i but all this is me. and just realizing this shit in the past few days is kind of scary. that i can repress shit like this for 20 years makes me sad. i know now why i might have acted out in the ways i have and why losing my virginity at the age of twelve really wasnt that big of a deal. i mean…maybe.

and all this has happened in the same week that i met someone and went out with them and this guy seems genuinely nice. but his wanting to know more about my child have me shook. and i shouldnt be because the guy just wants to know about her and is interested in my life. but here i am fearing every man who will come into contact with my beautiful daughter because i dont want to give up her naivete and innocence because of what some sick fuck did to me.

and i cant just keep my daughter all to myself and play me and baby isolated against the world because that’s even less healthy.

im sad at finding this piece of me that i lost twenty years ago. im sad that i couldnt find it when it happened and stop it then.  i was scared of upsetting things of losing the friend who’s brother it was. of feeling shame that wasnt mine to feel in the first place but has led me to devalue my own sexual self and degrade myself continually.

the man i thought i loved and wanted to be with for quite sometime told me flat out that he wouldnt ever be my man because i ‘knew’ too many people. basically cee you a hoe and i cant claim you as anything more than a hoe that im cool with and fuck on but secretly i tell you i love you and outwardly i show you how much i do care.

now, his loss for not taking me as i was. and fuck anyone who thinks that a hoe cant turn into a housewife because somewhere that hoe is just a little girl trying to make sense of things and claw and fuck herself out of shame and pain.

maybe this is a major step in my focusing on me. i have touched on a lot of things mentally that hurt over the past year and im finally in the right place to really start healing this scared little girl.

family

easter sunday. april twelth. last year on this day amari’s father was arrested on outstanding warrants in a routine traffic stop. it really wasnt routine though. we were on our way to his brothers house at 2am in need of a place to crash for the night because my car wasnt comfortable for the two of us to sleep in together and we were tired.  i was blurped for a tail light that was in need of replacing and him being black in the passenger seat made him suspect.

i cried my eyes out as he was taken from my car and put in the back of the patrol vehicle. i was scared. he was the one person i thought i could trust and my “rock.” we’d been homeless and hotel living for the past six days and i didnt know what i was going to do.

like every man does that gets locked up he promised he would change and he promised me the stars and the moon. and i promised to hold him down while he was in jail. i went to every court date and every chance i got to visit him. and ended up further in my depths of hell by the time he was released. i thought i loved him and i thought he was going to be all the family i needed for the rest of my life.

silly bitch was i.

trips to visit him. coke sold to fund him while in jail and keep him happy. money put on the phone so he could talk to me during his stay. i lost myself. and was left with nothing but promises to knock the shit out of me if i raised my voice. promises to leave me and go to his baby mama who was gonna gladly hold him down. and the scared little girl in me didnt realize that i had an out.  i had family and i had friends that would have been there.

i sold pieces of myself out. to keep him happy. and in return i lost.

its taken me til recently to not look in the mirror and hate the person i see. its taken my angel of a daughter to realize i could never sell myself short ever again.

today i sat at a table across from my childhood best friend. the same table we had dinners and homemade milkshakes at in middle school. in the same house where we cracked jokes and played with our makeup and hair. her mom and grandma held my child and i realized that im not supposed to be anywhere else in the world but where i am right now.

im happy that my nightmares have ended and that last years fears have turned back into dreams of my future and dreams that my daughter will have a best friend and childhood memories as sweet as mine.

one year later

i probably wont remember march 12th for the rest of my life…but i might.

i’d just gotten back in sac from being at my grandma’s with my mom helping my grandma deal with my grandpa’s passing.  my mom had actually said something about me going back to sac and her staying with my grandma for a few weeks and me helping my dad out around the house and taking care of lil brother. had that happened i guess march 12th never would have either.

and like those ‘choose your own adventure books’ so would the subsequent shit that happened happen.

he entered my life. he was charming. he was off-limits. he had a coke connect. he had a big dick. and he could fuck.

we were together everyday after that. (except the few weekends he ran off and left me high and dry) til i left his ass.

i feel like he and i were together for a very long time. but i guess when you deal with being homeless, dealing drugs, a jail term and drama everyfucking day LIFE SEEMS LONG and never ending.

i love my daughter so much. and im reminded of what a fucked up life i had before her everytime i look at her.

i think sometimes all the screaming and crying and the pain that i went thru during pregnancy and labor was my karmic payback for some of the really fucked up shit i did to people.

today a year ago, probably around this time, i was doing dirt. i chose the “how can i fuck things up more than they are” path, fucked things up. made quite a few enemies but found myself coming out better in the end.

im outta sacramento and wont ever be back except to visit. two middle fingers to a lot of dumb fucks in that town and if i had more hands id throw up more.

to the  bitch that still runs their mouth: you may think you’re flying high but what you dont realize is that you aint got wings and that free-fall feels the same as flying. you aint shit. get over me quit trying to run it about me and get clowned on more than you “try” to clown on me. or better yet come see me with that shit so i can laugh at you in person.

in less than three months i will have a YEAR clean of the nasty bitch coke. the drug that fucked my life up i have been away from and im so happy.  i still think about it. yeah. i dont think about it like i used to think about it.

people believe that god guides everything that happens in life and i have a hard time grasping that. i used to believe in god at one point in my life but now i know there is something more than me, i just feel i gave up my soul for a while and it hasnt fully been returned to me. like i gotta work extra hard or some shit.

im having a hard time with this “talk to baby” “sing to baby” “read to baby” shit. i dont infantalize things very well. i dont even talk to animals in a nice voice. i talk to kids like little adults and i cant sing songs i know to baby i just feel awkward. maybe it’s something moms go thru.

i am also realizing being a single mom is ROUGH. i get very little sleep and not a whole lot of breaks. though i am reaching out to the few people i know around me that can help me out. i cant take screaming all night long two weeks in a row. the baby doesnt make me mad, the lack of fucking sleep makes me mad. combine that with forgetting to eat and dealing with my grandma and im NUTS.

i am working on ways to release my anger and the gym has been a big help. something about riding on a bike and walk/running on the treadmill and then doing circuit training puts me in a much better mood. i go into the gym pissy and leave with a clearer mind and feeling like ahhhh.

im looking forward to spring and it not raining so damn much.

and that’s about all for now because im hungry and my lil frogger is going to wake up soon