weekend update 1/31/05 - the house jawn

...isn't she the cutest?

Bakers Dozen c/o KB via ej.

1. Ice storm in Atlanta chills traffic, shuts down the airport, and clears the streets. Except for Leah (pic above) - she's been cleared to drive in the snow!


2. And I really want my fellow Atliens to just stay home. Really.


3. but my stubborn Buffalonian a$$ ventured out regardless...


4. To a baby shower & a slumber party. Ah, to be young & fertile again.


5. And despite the weather, I FOUND MY HOUSE!


6. 'nuff said


7. Needless to say, my realtor is impressed not only by my winter driving ability, but my dogged resolve to get that house TO-friggin-DAY.


8. OK, so I did have to promise her hubby to not kill her in the process. She was perfectly safe with me - truly.


9. And she got the builder to give me a lil extra off the top, for coming out in the nasty weather. How much do I LOVE my realtor now?!!!


10. Can you say Kenneth Brown?


11. Or West Elm?


12. I just cannot wipe the shyt-eating grin off my face.

I need colors y'all. And furniture. And decorating ideas. We've got 6 months to build, and I know y'all are going to help me get this right, right??!!!

weekend snow update

I'm forgoing the normal update for this public service announcement.

IT FRIGGIN SNOWED IN ATLANTA!!!

Ok, you say - no biggie. Well, here's the thing. People in general, but southerners in particular, are ill-equipped to deal with ice & snow. I think there are only 3 actual snow plows in the entire state of Georgia. And while the Buffalonian in me can snicker (a lil) at most Georgians response to 1/2 inch, still...snow here is dangerous. VERY dangerous.

So, in lieu of the weekend jawn, and to help out my fellow southern urbanites, I just want to offer a few pointers. No judgement - just some helpful hints:

1. STAY THE F%&@ HOME!!! Where do you really have to be? Work? If your boss calls you in this weather, tell him he has three options: Come get you, fire you, or just kiss your ass til it clears up. But if you really have to make it to Walmart to stock up on water & back-up generators (see, folks here think they're going to be trapped for weeks or some shyt)...


2. SLOW THE F%&@ DOWN!!! Shyt, and I don't mean from your usual 75+ miles an hour to the friggin speed limit. Try 40mph on for size, or even 30mph. And I mean on the highway, not down Peachtree Street, sheesh...


3. If you drive a Neon, you can go airborne... Or a Civic, Passat, Tercel, Echo, Golf, Sephia, or any other friggin mini-whateva. Seriously - put some shyt in your trunk - sandbags, weights, filled water jugs, small children - something to keep your mini-Cooper from sliding into the median wall.


4. Ford F150's, you ain't exempt either. Just because your shit weighs 2 tons, doesn't mean you can drive fast. Have you HEARD of BLACK ICE?


5. If you've never seen snow or ice on the road, avoid it. I've seen more Mexicans/Asians doing donuts in traffic today than in my local gas station or construction site. Seriously - does in not snow in Mexico/China/India?


6. Drive in the tracks. If you see that previous cars have already created a track to drive in, why try to "create your own path"? Save that shyt for the friggin off-roading commercials, and stay in that clear path. Ya think ya would want to drive where you can see pavement?!


7. No passing, no weaving, no maneuvering... So, you're managing to get out there, and not slide? That is NOT an open invitation to scare the living bejeezus out of your fellow drivers. Stay in your lane. Just one lane. ONE.


8. Stay off the secondaries. Ok, so your grandmama is in her house on the Cul-de-Sac, alone, and you want to get her. Problem is, her street is a skating rink now. So, you're either gonna have to park your car on a primary road and walk to her house, or use your car as a pinball, and slide-bounce off all the parked cars on her street to get to her - your choice. This is just common sense, c'mon...


9. Don't use your hazards as a safety net... So you're out there, scared shitless, and you want everyone to know? See #1...then #2, but if you still insist on driving - turn them damn hazards off. See, none of the other drivers on the road can tell exactly what you're going to do - is he turning? changing lanes? getting off the road? Who knows - you're doing 70mph on black ice, in the passing lane, with your friggin hazards on...


10. Don't stomp on those brakes: You're guaranteeing a skid. Pump the brakes. You should've done #1 & #2, but now that you've started to slide, flooring the brakes is a guarantee you'll lose what little traction you have. Pump...then pump...then pump some friggin more...


11. Turn into the skid. This is one of those things that little Northern teenagers always go hunh? before they actually have to do, then once they skid, they understand. Grown-a$$ adults down here just WON'T do it. Just trust me on this one - you have to turn into the skid to maintain control...


12. In a skid, accelerate. You have more traction accelerating than decelerating or while braking. Yes, it sounds perverse - but we ain't talkin' flooring it either. Slightly accelerate until you regain control.


13. Check your fluids. Yes, before you even get on the road - make sure you have anti-freeze, oil, gas, wiper-fluid, etc, etc, etc. A BMW owner flagged me down (after he passed my Cherokee at about 70mph)... He had let his car warm up for an hour, under a 1/2 inch bed of ice, and never checked his fluids and VOILA - the car overheated. On another note, as a woman - it is very cool to bail out a dude...VERY cool ;-)


14. When you get to your destination - start over again at #1. See, unlike normal storms, here in the damp South, the conditions may not get better when the sun comes out, and the day progresses. The ice storm persists, and my big-black-hurried a$$ almost slid into a Lexus in my parking lot...I need to take my own dayum advice.

I know some of this seems condescending - ok, yeah it is. But c'mon really - it's not that hard. If you're scared to drive - then don't. I know the rest of y'all northerners have some additional pointers - what did I forget?

the music meme

thanks to TK for tagging me. And you, kind reader...You're NEXT!!!

Random 10:

1. "Meant to Be" - Kindred


2. "Cold" - Crossfade


3. "Superwoman" - Stevie Wonder


4. "One Thing" - Amerie


5. "Beyond" - Amel Larrieux


6. "I Tried" - Talib Kweli ft. Mary J. Blige


7. "Stay This Way" - Brand New Heavies


8. "Moonstreams" - Grover Washington


9. "A.D. 2000" - Erykah Badu


10. "Ride" - Usher

What is the total amount of music files on your computer?
Music Library: a lot, but not nearly enuff. OK, for real - I have too much on my plate to get this number, which means that I really need to get at #68


The last CD you bought is:
"After Hours" - Rahsaan Patterson (A gift for someone else...I typically er, acquire music.)


What is the song you last listened to before this message?
"Envy Me" - The Game ft. 50 Cent (oh, the mixtape was real serious y'all...lol)


Write down five songs you often listen to or that mean a lot to you:

5 w/meaning:

1. "New" - Amel Larrieux: I wish I could be


2. "Free" - Jill Scott: It's sad when preludes/interludes are better than entire songs


3. "New York" - Ja Rule ft. Fat Joe & Jadakiss: because I miss real people, real food, "real" hip-hop & really fabulous clothes


4. "How Insensitive" - Sting & Antonio Jobin: someone blessed me with this & I appreciate them for it more than they know


5. "Kiss from a Rose" - Seal: It was FL's favorite, which is apt, because it's so haunting. It reminds me not to believe in fairytales

Who are you gonna pass this stick to (three persons and why)?

1. Fave


2. Elle


3. Heru

any questions?

weekend update << romantic update?

The weekend was boring - more househunting, so no point in even going over that.

However, I've been keeping this underwraps for a sec, but I have a romantic muse. Yes, a coupla other folks crawled out of the woodwork: "what?! you stopped dating?! I was gonna get at you, but _____". However, this guy is, different. Not different in a "yeah, all men are dogs, but this guy isn't because..." kind of way. He's different in a "yo, I have nothing to lose, so I'm just going to be (brutally) honest and completely myself" kind of way.

I don't know where he came from - I'm beginning to think he morphed out of the wall when I declared that I was giving up dating.

I don't want to talk about what he's not (e.g. he's not a loser). He is smart, funny, romantic. He is creative, driven, and focused. He is passionate, strong and family-oriented. He is quasi-nerdy, athletic, and a horn-dog. He is stylish, eloquent and quasi-materialistic. He is socially-conscious, politically incorrect and potty-mouthed. And he is the first person in a while to actually give me butterflies and make me want to do corny stuff like walk in the park, and hold hands.

He makes my breath catch in ways that I can barely control.

And the fact he's 900+ miles away is maddening, particularly in the light of the gems he keeps dropping for me:

The Artist, Refait: I never knew u existed-or I'd waited for u to be the first to make me smile as a man.

I feel foolish falling for someone I've never met. But I'm feeling, which is so, so, so much better than the alternative.

spongebob is gay?

This would be hilarious if it wasn't so damn scary. The conservative right is ranting about the "homosexual agenda" again, and apparently Spongebob is the target. Or should I say , the perpetrator:

Focus on Family: "Dr. Dobson is concerned that these popular animated personalities are being exploited by an organization that's determined to promote the acceptance of homosexuality among our nation's youth."

American Family Association: "It is as unprecedented as it is cunning, using all the right words and happiest faces in an attempt to speak directly to the nation's children about "tolerance and diversity." Once again, of course, those ideas include homosexual advocacy."

And what's sparking all this controversy? A "Tolerance Pledge" tied to the We Are Family Organization, which is promoting a video that features (amongst other characters), Spongebob. The Pledge: "The We Are Family Foundation is pleased to provide Tolerance.org's Declaration of Tolerance, part of the Southern Poverty Law Center's National Campaign for Tolerance.
Tolerance is a personal decision that comes from a belief that every person is a treasure. I believe that America's diversity is its strength. I also recognize that ignorance, insensitivity and bigotry can turn that diversity into a source of prejudice and discrimination.
To help keep diversity a wellspring of strength and make America a better place for all, I pledge to have respect for people whose abilities, beliefs, culture, race, sexual identity or other characteristics are different from my own. "

With everything going on in the world right now, this is what folks get incensed about? Dayum, correct me if I'm wrong, but I didn't think the homosexual community was recruiting? And to think this is a "cunning" plot, part of a "homosexual agenda" - well that seems almost criminal, eh? Next thing you know, those gay folks will be bringing that purse-carrying Tubbie back, and giving flowers to all the kiddies... Ok, for real - does a 7 yr old watching this even acknowlege any of this crap? Respect for people that are different - this is a bad thing?

And how trife is ABC for trying to make this headline so dayum sexy before my 7AM coffee? Sheesh...

my son

I've hesitated to write about Hammy (not his real name), because frankly I doubted that I could do him justice. My son is so many things, that it's hard to even begin to describe him.

He is pure, uncomplicated, unsullied and unadulterated joy. He's more intelligent than I ever imagined he'd be. His kisses are only slightly sweeter than his bear hugs, and he's affectionate with just about everyone he comes across, even in passing. His simple smile, wave and friendly "hey, how you doing?" tends to light up the room wherever he goes, inspiring even the most hard-hearted, grizzled geezers in Publix, to beam back "Hey little man, how are you?". Women fawn over him, gushing "oooo, he's so cute!" at his batting eyelashes, and curly hair.

And my son, Hammy, has Rubinstein-Taybi syndrome. The quick & dirty is this: he's got developmental delays. The un-pc version is that he's moderately retarded, and the pc version is that he's handicapable. Whatever. I told a parent of another child who has delays - I don't really care how they classify my son, if it gets him the help he needs.

And I could tell y'all how hard it's been - oh it's been hard, but that wouldn't capture all that Hammy is either. I cried for 3 days straight when he was finally diagnosed at 2 years old. I've cried many times after that - thru MRI's, CAT-Scans, GI studies and 8-hour specialist visits, thru heart & lung monitors and the probable possiblity of SIDS, thru X-Rays, a 1/2 dozen pneumonias, 3 surgeries, and a broken arm. I cried because I thought he'd never walk, never talk, and never play t-ball. And I cried when he finally ran (never did toddle) and said "mama" instead of babbling. And he's only 9 yrs old. I (in my arrogant sorrow), questioned God's motives, and asked why we - he and I had to be punished, us both being innocents.

LMAO - I can laugh about that now.

See, my son saved my life. Figuratively, because I got my life together to make things better for both of us. Otherwise, my hot (and much narrower) a$$ would probably still be in the club 2-3X/week. Literally, because were it not for him, his father and I probably would've killed each other. Or I would've killed myself.

So, how do I capture Hammy? People ask me how's he doing, and I say fine (that's the answer they're looking for) but what I really want to say is "He's doing great. He's starting to form full sentences, he can count to 30, he can get himself 75% dressed without my assistance, he's been tracing his hands and drawing circles and squares (on walls - but it's so hard for me to punish him since I'm so happy that he's drawing) and while he can't tie his shoes, spell and isnt fully potty-trained, I'm really, REALLY proud of him". But I know they won't get that.

But I can tell you the most beautiful bedtime prayer I ever heard.

I put Hammy in the bed one night recently, tucked him in, turned off the light, and started to pick up his toys in the dark. And as I picked up the toys in the dark, I heard him softly say: "Good night, sun. Good night, sky. Good night, moon. Good night, stars. Good night, outside. Good night, blue. Good night, mommy"

Good night, Hammy. I love you.

"I love you too, Mommy"

the domain is mine!!!

http://www.sagaciously.net

So, what would you like to see there...? Your ideas, comments, designs, storyboards, illustrations, donations are welcomed, encouraged, solicited..etc...etc...

...and um, yeah - just when u thought my posts weren't already sparse enough, I bite off even more than I can chew...

the 101 list update

Yeah...yeah...yeah. I said monthly, but I figured if I waited that long, y'all would lose interest. Hell, I almost did.

So, the original 101 tasks list & explanation is here.

I'm just hitting the highlights:

#19. workout some kind of visitation schedule with Hammy's sperm donor. <- this is not going well. I opened the door, and not only is he not walking in, but his sorry a$$ asked me for some $$$. On an aside, if you owed someone $16,000+, under what circumstances would you ask them for $400? PLEASE explain that one to me...

#10. practice celibacy until I get into a serious relationship. <-this one's kinda easy if you're not really seeing anyone...lmao.

#27. contribute to my 401K plan <-done 1/10/05

#28. take advantage of the company discounted stock purchase plan <-done 1/10/05

pretty much everything else is in progress - some things pretty close to fruition, and some not even close. Surprisingly, the easy stuff is taking longer than the involved things. I do like how this whole process is going...

MB & my "A" Game

So, I know I've been kind of MIA lately. School restarted, and I have A's on my mind.

<sigh>

Let me preface this by saying, I know I'm intelligent. I know I have developed decent study habits, and I know I have the capacity to truly excel in not just grad school, but Business School, and even Business School at a Nationally Ranked University.

However (you knew this was coming) - the path my life has taken is so atypical, I've been feeling overwhelmed. Drastically, mind-numbingly, tongue-frozenly overwhelmed. See, I was a teenage welfare mom. I dropped got kicked out of undergrad. I got finally got my undergrad at age 38. I didn't create my "life-plan" until I was about 33-ish, and it's still a work in progress.

But more than that, I don't read the Wall Street Journal and Fortune magazine for pleasure. While I'm aware of Sarbannes-Oxley, discussions about its implications for the majority of the Fortune 5 don't get me wet. I'm not apathetic to the whole MBA grind, but frankly - I kinda don't fit.

So, my struggle at this point isn't necessarily with the level of performance I have to achieve. I know I can kick a$$ & take names. My problem is rousing enough genuine interest in my classes to want to dedicate the effort necessary to excel. Ok, in plain words -I gotta figure out how to give a flying f&*% about them - to get the A's I need. Undergrad was easy - shyt, I wanted that degree more than I wanted money, power, food, sleep or even dyck. Frankly, right now that MBA means little more than some additional empowerment, and an eventual pay raise.

I gotta get my "A" game together. Right now, I'm in a class whose grading make-up includes 35% class participation - based solely on class discussions related to current events in the business spectrum. Goodbye bloglines, I'll be reading WSJ, The Economist, and Business 2.0 (wait, I actually like Business 2.0). Hm...maybe business blogs instead?

Yeah, I'll be periodically blogstipated for a sec, followed by blog-a-rrhea. See, now we both have something to look forward to!

weekend update 1/17/05

the weekend update: you're getting it early, 'cause I'se tired...


Bakers Dozen c/o KB via ej.

1. spent 4+ hours stuck in Atlanta traffic. I could've driven to Florida instead...


2. crashed and got 12+ hours of sleep...


3. got my hair braided. why is it that stylists can't braid, and braiders cannot style?


4. picked up some gear & accesories, and put the twinz on display for...


5. Queen Mia's Birthday party! Ok, she had like 4 parties, but I could only make it to one. Nevertheless, the turnout was serious, and we (several of my coworkers, her party guests, et al) had a ball.


6. AUGH - ma head hurtz!!! (knees are blown-out too, but that's another story...) dunno whether it's the braids or the alcohol...


7. hangover, anyone?


8. made my hangover cure: steak, taters, etc. (starve a cold, feed the hangover) and drank plenty of water so I could...


9. continue the house-hunt. resales only now, thank you very much.


10. spent some time with JL, revisiting the plan to get the sperm donor to be a dad for a change. neither of us knows if my plan will work, but it is a source of amusement


11. caught a live Crossfade performance (well, on TV) - hm, am I destined to embrace the rock lover within?


12. entertained thoughts of the Geek & the Artist - Redux, but thoughts only...

Oh sleep! It is a gentle thing, Beloved from pole to pole. ~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

...going to grab onto that pole...

task#19 - the sperm donor jawn

the sperm donor is FL, and his chronicles are here, as well as here,  and also here. And this is how we got to where we are now.

So, December 30th 2004 - I ain't studying his a$$. F&ck 'im - I gotta keep it moving. Then folks   inspire me   with their 101, and I gotta fill up all those tasks...If you don't know what this is, take a look.

The thing is - that list is organic, and has a life of its own. You begin it thinking, I should travel, clean my closet, save some money, lose weight, etc. But 101 is a lot of friggin tasks, and towards the end, you're thinking: "How do I leave a lil mark to show what I accomplished? How can I grow from this experience or do some good in the world?" Or maybe that's just me...?

So yeah, my son needs to know who his dad is, even if he is a raging, flaring, hemorrhoidal a$$hole. And yeah, dad will never, ever reach out and bridge that gap between the two of us, so that he can see his son. He hasn't, and he never would've. His childish pride & ego would never let that happen. Besides, in his mind, he still loves me, even though he hates me...and his "love" has made him blind to his son's needs.

Therefore I added this task, and owned it. And by owning it, I realized that I was going to have to swallow a lot of shyt to get it accomplished. Not a$$-ki$$ing per se. Just listening to the SD whine about how wrong I was, how wrong I am, and how my "wrongness" interferes with his ability to parent. A lil manipulation on my part. It goes like this (unedited):

me: I'd like to sit down and work out a visitation agreement, if that's possible. But I'm pressed for time at the moment.
SD: I don't think that's possible.
me: Why not? We both want the same thing - for you to see your son...
SD: See, thing is I'm pissed off at you - so don't think that you can just step back in and make me look like the bad guy...if I say no, then I'm the villain...if I say yes...then we have to do it on your terms...
me: I'm really hoping we're not going to have to rehash the entire history of our relationship to get back to the point of you spending time with your son...
SD: SEE...THAT'S YOUR F&*$IN' PROBLEM RIGHT THERE...you always trying to be so "professional" with yours, even after you've done dirt...if you hadn't have &*)$()_$#@@
...and the expletives continued. You get the idea. I politely excused myself from the call shortly thereafter.

Pause: I had to really rethink the whole thing. My internal discussion was this: I'm working with a real idiot here - walking & talking. Reasoning & rationales have never worked with this kid - he's always been fueled by emotion. I can't reason with him, so I have to appeal to his emotions. How do I do that? <lightbulb moment> Apologize. <end lightbulb moment>. He won't know how to take it. Matter of fact - if I let him get all that past venom out - call me a bitch, bitch & moan about how trifling I am, etc - THEN he'll actually listen. Hell, if I let him get all that out - he may come up with a schedule his dayum self. So, after leaving him a coupla voicemails, trying to track him down (yes, he was dodging me!) - I called him from a private number (so he couldn't check the caller ID) and VOILA! he answers...

SD: Who 'dis?
me: It's me. Do you have time to talk?
SD: I really don't have anything to say to you.
Implement plan A - Apology
me: I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude earlier (I wasn't, but who really gives a f&*% about being right at this point?). I really wanted to allow you the opportunity to voice your concerns, and talk about the things that are bothering you. I know you had some things you wanted to say earlier...
SD: Hunh?
me: Seriously - let me give you the opportunity to say what you have to say, uninterrupted.
SD: (dead silence)
me: Are you still there?
SD: Uh...yeah. I just think u're setting me up...if I vent, you're just gonna take it out of context & run with it...
me: I'm really not. I think deep down inside we both want the same thing, and I just want to do what I can to make that happen. (This is true). And I know you need to vent, so I wanted to give you the chance to do that.
SD: Well yeah, see - you know that ish you did was dead wrong.....
....and so on..and so on...for about 15-30 minutes. I lost track, because honestly I was watching Love & Basketball by this point. I inserted un-hunh's and ok's and yeah's into the conversation to let him think I was listening. Then...
SD: so, uh - I can't get him this weekend because I'm moving, but I can try to get him next weekend...

...ok so it's not a "schedule" yet. Baby steps y'all - I gotta take baby steps with this dude.

For the record, yes I know - SD is not worth the trouble. He could be replaced. But that would be wrong on my part. My son right now can't distinguish who his father is. He may one day have a step-daddy, but it's not the same. He needs to know who his father is, and I intend to fix this. Even without the sperm donor's cooperation.

how to lose visitation...

so, I've been furiously working on #19, and I've made some progress. But before I can update you on how I'm managing to get the sperm donor to see his son, I have to tell you real quick how he came to not seeing his son.

And if you're not familiar with what a piece of work this dude is, you can read all about   the sperm donor's   exploit's right here.

Now I don't want to paint a completely one-sided picture. He cares about his son. But to avoid retelling the story about all the damage he's done, and recounting every incident in our lives, I'll summarize as best I can: he cares about his son the way a child cares about their pet. They love them, but not enough to put their own selfish needs aside. And he's shown this over & over & over & over again & again & again & again...anyway, I digress.

We start at the point where dude is years behind in child support (unemployed), and only seeing his son (he won't agree to a visitation agreement - doesn't want "The Man" telling him what to do...) when it doesn't interfere with his weed-induced playstation weekends with his boys (yes, he's over 30, but again, I digress...). So, I feel empowered to put some additional duties on him. This particular day, he was supposed to pick up my son from my house, take him to a doctor's appointment, then drop him off at school. When school let out, he was to meet him at my house, and wait for me to get home (after work & school - I was burning the candle at both ends at the time). I had an 8AM meeting @ work, so my daughter was waiting for the sperm donor to show.

I get a call @10AM from my daughter - no sperm donor. I call the sperm donor, and the convo goes like this:

me: um, where are you?
sd: at home. why?
me: did you forget about Hammy's doctor's appt?
sd: oh, i rescheduled that.
me: were you PLANNING ON TELLING ME THIS?!!!

So, I leave the meeting that I was still in, rush home (45 min away) to pick my son up, drop him off at school (15 min), drop daughter off at college - she was late for an exam (25 min) and head back to work (45 min) - and got a verbal warning from my boss. Great. Since this was somewhat de rigueur for FL, while I was pissed - I saved my ire for a more appropriate time - when I could go home & go off - after class that evening. My pissed-offedness was multiplied twelvefold by the numerous phone calls from my son's therapist - about the no-show charge that we'd incurred by not cancelling the appt. Thanks to sperm donor.

So, imagine my surprise when I called there on the way home, and got - no answer? WTF? I redialed - then dialed his cell (no answer) - and was home by the time I figured out - he's not here?!! So, I call his homeboy - not there either - and then call his sister's house (he didn't have his own place...). The basic convo:

me: O-kaaayyyy...weren't you supposed to be at my house?!!!
sd: oh well, I figured it would be just as easy for you to come pick him up here...
me: and yOu WeRe GoInG tO tElL mE tHiS wHeN?!!!
sd: I was gonna call you when i thought you were on your way home...
me: mutha-f&*^%, I AM HOME!!!!

At this point, I lost all rational thought, and strung expletives together in ways that would amaze not only Merriam Webster, but also Andrew Dice Clay, Richard Pryor and Dave Chappelle. So, driving over sis's house at 90 MPH, and continuing the expletive-slinging in the parking lot outside her apartment at about 140 decibels while not being a good idea, was inevitable. I don't remember much of that argument, except the statement that ended it...

me: Hell, I can get a homeless nigga off the street to do the job that you're doing now M^&%@-F^#*@, and...you know what?!! F^#* this - I'mma do everything in my damn power to find a responsible father for my son, so we don't have to deal with this bullshyt any more...

Yes, I emasculated him.

I felt bad about it later, not because it wasn't true (it was). Mostly, I felt bad because even if it was true, that thought should never have been given air, let alone life. It should've festered in my brain, and left my lips only to hit the ear of a trusted girlfriend, in a late night gripe session. Not the ears of the subject at hand.

That was Fall '03. I've avoided FL since, and kept the sperm donor from my son. He missed X-Mas '03, birthday '04, Hammy breaking his arm, Hammy expanding his vocabulary, my attempts to teach Hammy to ride his bike, X-mas '04, etc...etc...

until now...

zen and Q, the Art of Work

I'm prepping for the move, so I'm cleaning - and I came across some pins that I earned at work. One year of service, Employee of the Month, Company anniversary, that sort of thing. I typically acknowlege all of these with the same thought: "hmph...they could've saved some scratch, and given us all bigger raises...". So last week, my old project manager (who can barely purse his lips together to say 'hi', but that's another post) comes by my desk, smiling even, and hands me another pin - this for a sizeable contribution to the Company's favored charity. I was so shocked he was smiling & talking to me, the pin didn't even register. Howevever, I did quip that I was gonna start wearing a lanyard, covered with pins, like Q.

Now, Q is our department's elder statesman. More senior than most senior management, Q has held a higher-level non-supervisory position (created as a pacifier, perhaps?) for some years. Rumor has it that he was promoted, then demoted, for his refusal to cooperate with the in-house hierarchy. Nevertheless, Q (at a casual glance) seems quietly complacent, despite knowing where most of the bodies are buried, in his current (and final) position. I've heard some positive things about Q, but I've also heard some Dilbert-like jabs at his position, and his existence. Subconsciously, I associated him with the dinosaurs - a Company man, and the last of a (hopefully) dying breed.

Q wears a lanyard, covered with pins. Some earned, some purchased, and some just acquired. Some that sport various incarnations of the company logo, or other emblems that would easily symbolize the company's primary function. Some fun pins, some serious pins. But lots of pins. And he wears this lanyard every day, with Armani suits at the corporate office, and with T-shirts and jeans at the company picnic. Q is very proud of his pins, and proud of the achievements/events/contributions that granted them.

I used to vow I would never, ever become Q. But when I found my mini collection of pins, I rethought Q. Every one of those pins has a story. Every pin reflects some step in Q's journey with the Company. More than the 'glory' of senior management, high-impact/high-priority projects, and huge bonuses. Those pins show Q's walk at work. They are the physical representation of Q walking, with grace.

Yes, I could (and still will) job-hop. But in the interim, the job isn't that bad after all. And in 25 years, I hope to have something to signify my walk, like Q's pins.

weekend update - 1/10/05

Courtesy of Bakers Dozen c/o KB via ej.

...in no particular order...

1. I met the Artist, Redux. Intelligent, funny, sexy, etc..etc. which forced me to...


2. redo the List - still 101, but there's been a slight change


3. I'm workin out y'all - and I'm hating the treadmill, recumbent bike AND the sidewalk


4. I'm eating healthy y'all - and I have the heartburn & gas to prove it


5. 8+ glasses/day = one pissy Saga. Look, I never promised to NOT be gross.


6. Saw White Noise, and it was good (even when it asked you to seriously suspend believability)...


7. and saw the Geek, and he was, er - better.


8. Bad news - the new Dreamhouse will make me House Poor


9. Good news - I'd already found another one that will make me House, er - Middle Income...lol


10. Became a slightly Red-Head, again. Ok, so it's more brown than red, anywayz...


11. Started Organizing (or "downloading" - it's all in your interpretation) my music library.


12. I fell in love again - this time I'm in love with being in Like. And I like the feeling.

And before anyone else tries to say it (since I left a big a$$ opening), I know: "House Middle Income" or "House Poor" is still better than "Hood Rich"...

Yes, that was corny...sorry, being in Like makes me corny...lol.

the list, revisited

okokok, so I was bitter and pissy, and this one was more than a little unrealistic:

9. take a 365-day break from dating

as, EJ so casually yet accurately pointed out to me "yeah, when you stop looking, that's normally when people come out of the woodwork...". So, along with having some remarkable conversations with The Artist II(the remix), I went on another date with the Computer Geek.

A quick brief: I just realized that the Geek & I have been dating for almost 5 months? Time flies - and despite my desperate search for his "catch" (the a$$-grabbing thing for example) - he's been a perfect & interesting gentleman. WOW - I almost don't know how to take that.

Anyway, we went out again, and he was quite endearing. And he has a really nice smile. And he didn't sneak in an a$$-grab this time. And he hit a grounder to get to 1st base. And I went home with a smile on my face, looking forward to seeing him again. WOW - a normal date!

OH YEAH, so I need a new task... riiigghhght?!!!

9. practice punctuality for 30 days (yeah, I was late for our date...and many other things)

oh, one other thing - I also modified:

33. take a week's vacation in Harlem
is now
33. take a trip to NY

If I'm gonna get that passport stamp, a week isn't realistic. And there's a whole lot more NY to see other than Harlem. That's it, I ain't changin' nuttin else, I swear...

steppin out on faith...

So, I found the house I want, and I'm working with a lender to secure the financing. I terminated my lease today (ends 2/28/05), and I'm working on a backup habitation plan just in case this whole thing doesn't work the way I planned.

I'm terrified. Period.

Someone send me a virtual hug & tell me it's gonna be alright, y'all heard? I sorely need it.

...I always hated that stupid phrase...

why I love black men...

So, of course since I decided to give up dating, guys are crawling out of the woodwork (allegedly), to get at me. I'm sticking to my guns. But in case you're wondering why I'm giving up not just the nookie, but the dates as well, here's your answer.

I love black men. I've said this before, but I'll say it again. Love them. Love the way they talk, the way they walk, they way they smell, the way the cogs turn in their brain. Love their basketball playing shyt-talk; love their jawnin'-in-a-cypher braggadacio.

I love their confidence, their strength, their defiance in the face of adversity (and let's be honest - they face more daily adversity that any of us care to admit - even us sistas who share their experiences).I love their ability to rise to a challenge, to be empassioned about the most trivial annoyance, their cool demeanor when faced with people that belittle them and insult their intelligence. You may never see them sweat, yanno?

I love their style, the way they dress, they way they stand, the way they swagger. I like the way their eyelashes dust their cheeks when they sleep (they look longer somehow when their eyes are closed). I love their locs, their fades, their dreads, their baldies - even their 'fros (only from afar - their 'fro can't supercede mine ;-).

I love the depth of their brown eyes, and their self-conscious, blushing-at-the-floor smiles. I love the fact that despite the challenges they face daily, they still see potential in the world, and themselves, and that makes their challenges, well, it's alright, ya heard?

I love that thin line of sweat that forms from neck base to navel, when they're really getting their groove on.

So having said all that (I've got more, but time's a wastin'), I want to keep loving them. Given the spate of a$$holes in 2004, that's been hard. For every one positive thing I can list about them, several negative recent experiences come to mind. I hate thinking like that.

I'm giving them up, so I can get past 2004 a$$holiness - and let some older wounds heal. Lately, I've been expecting the worst, so I'm never really disappointed. I'm supposed to be expecting the best, so that I know when to kick sorry a$$es to the curb. I know it's partially me. So, I'm giving them up so I can keep loving them.

vacation update

the weekend vacation update: yes, I've been too lazy to post, so you get a consolidated 2 fer this week ;-)

Bakers Dozen c/o KB via ej.

1. more househunting, found the dreamhouse, and my budget left me wanting. Maybe next time.


2. X-MAS: cooked too much, ate too much, slept too little. Family good cheer abounded.


3. met 3 "good catches" (their words) online, who (being the gentlemen that they were) convinced me to...


4. give up dating completely. Can you say a$$holes? I need a break.


5. did absolutely no after X-Mas shopping. Felt dayum good.


6. worked on my 101 in 1001 task list.


7. nailed down my Spring Semester schedule


8. sold my books back, cleaned the house, channelled my inner domestic diva


9. went to court to beat a traffic ticket - cop no-showed. YEAH!!!


10. Got the summons rescheduling my appearance the next day. Oh well.


11. visited the house of EJ, Prime, J and Anna. How jealous am I??!!!!


12. spoke with the sperm donor - how anti-climactic (he was actually civil)

My life of late has been boring the crap outta me, so I'm on a mission to make it more interesting, sans romantic catastrophes. I may end up knocking out a chunk of that list quick - stay tuned.

the last 4 a$$holes of 2004

Ah, we never tire of dating drama, and online dating services seem to have an ample supply of it. Without further ado:

A$$hole Number 1 - The Pic Stealer:: found on Yahoo, after I perused his profile, "I'd describe myself as simple, but elegant; soft-spoken, but out-spoken; direct, but romantic; gregarious, but discerning; selectively eloquent; blah...blah...blah", I decided to look at his pics. Lo and behold, I spot a picture of my friend SG???!!!. Wait, let me explain something here: SG is an attractive dude, but he's no Morris Chestnut, Boris Kodjoe or Chi McBride. In other words, not NEARLY worthy of impersonation (then again, most dudes can't pull off Chi, so...). So of course I had to figure out WTF this dude has going on right? After some back & forth emails (and a heads up & confirmation by SG), we chat (summary):

saga_30311: I really need to ask you a question - are both those pics on your profile of you? I see you're smoking a cigar in one, and I tend not to date smokers.
pic-thief: Oh nah - I was just ballin at a Falcons game with my boys.
pic-thief: I understand why you ask though. I know some people steal pics and put them in their profile, which I think is so ridiculous.
LMAO - so he's volunteering this shyt?!!! But wait, it gets better:
saga_30311: so, what do you do?
pic-thief: I'm a Network Operating Analyst with XYZ Company
saga_30311: stop lying - are you serious? you work in the NOC for XYZ (the NOC reference shoulda been his tip-off to stop volunteering info, but the pic-thief isn't real bright...)
saga_30311: how long have you been there?
pic-thief: Since 2000, it'll be five years this year. I started as a _______ (entry level tech position for XYZ in crappy department).
saga_30311: I used to work for XYZ!!! From 2000-2001...

Ok, let's skip the details, and cut to the chase. SG ALSO used to work for XYZ - in the same entry level tech position for XYZ in same crappy department!!! By now I've got dude's screen names (for several different sites) and work address & hours (since SG & I both worked there). SG has volunteered to give dude a pounding, but frankly - I'm having a little fun stringing his a$$ along like I don't know what a loser he is.

A$$hole Number 2 - Mr. Earning Potential, revisited:: Ok, so he kept contacting me, like "I'm a decent guy once you get to know me...". So, when he asked me did I want to meet New Year's, I told him that wasn't a good idea, but maybe we could pre-meet, then hang out. So, I make sitter arrangements, and call dude. Mr. Earning Potential, day-of the pre-meet: "Um, I'm not going to be able to make it - sorry." No explanation, no courtesy call, just no-show. Fucker. Can you validate my sitter then?

A$$hole Number 3 - The Layabout:: This is probably my fault. After the layabout & I chat a little, talk even more, compare profiles - you know, internet foreplay? The layabout invites himself to my leftover X-Mas dinner. Since I have enough leftover turkey to feed Rhode Island, I let him come over (our first meeting, and my first boo-boo). He chills too long, and tries to taste my "leftovers", if you know what I mean, so I scurry him out the door. SO, then he calls me NY eve, to see if I want to curl up & watch movies. Cool, but I ask him to bring a bottle of champagne with him. "Er no, you're going to have to get that yourself." Oh hell naw - if I'm providing the location, the food, the movies - wha da fuck do I need you for?

A$$hole Number 4 - The Aviator:: Apparently he owns his own aviation company - or something along those lines. On a side note, what is it about major metro areas that make folks claim to be superstars when they're waiters?! Not that he doesn't own the company, but dude - if you have one plane, you're not competing with Delta or Airtran, k? So, he gives me his cell, and the 30 second convo goes like this:
aviator: So, how tall are you?
saga_30311: 5'8"
aviator: How much do you weigh?
saga_30311: (long a$$ pause)
Now, I am a big curvy girl - and my profile states this, plus there are full length recent pics of me there as well. Hell, I couldn't hide all this a$$ even if I wanted to, so I ain't trying to pull a bait & switch. However, this is just fucking rude, and I'm headed toward PO'ed, but ain't made it all the way there yet...
saga_30311: While I understand where you're headed, and I'd be happy to give you my dress size, that's just rude.
aviator: I don't know anything about women's dress sizes. Why can't you answer the question?
saga_30311: Because no matter how much I weigh, that's rude. If you want to know if I'm a big girl, just a...
avaitor: (click)
Yes, this bytch hung up on me. He's 34 years old, and you can't be man enough to say "Ok, if that's the case, I'm not interested"?!!! This is a bytch move, and I intend to tell him so. Dumbass - never piss off a computer geek. Reverse lookup the cell number, and I have the name of his provider. I send him a very civil text message (from provider website so he can't trace it back) about his bytch move How rude & childish. Man up or grow up!. So Dumba$$ calls me back - from his home phone. So now I could reverse lookup that, but it's a waste of energy. He's now calling me daily, trying to catch me at home so he can cuss me out (doesn't want to leave that nasty voicemail so I can have Bellsouth block his number for harassment I guess). The whole episode has me feeling very P.S. 144.

So, with all this pleasantness of testosterone, what would I potentially have left? The Computer Geek - who's trying to feel me (literally - by sneaking a$$-grabs) but not feeling me, and the Maintenance Applicant (oh yeah, we've had some steamy conversations, but really - I don't know if I can stand the drama of another human dildo - at this point I almost prefer latex and jelly). Shyt, I shoulda stopped dating Thanksgiving and avoided all this trifling-ness...

101 tasks in 1001 days

Aight, I've seen this on Karsh's page, and then EJ & I talked about it. Sounds more painful AND rewarding than a New Year's resolution, and who am I to pass up rewarding pain?
The Mission: Complete 101 preset tasks in a period of 1001 days.

The Criteria: Tasks must be specific (i.e. no ambiguity in the wording) with a result that is either measurable or clearly defined. Tasks must also be realistic and stretching (i.e. represent some amount of work on my part).

Note: My End Date is September 29, 2007, and I intend to update this list monthly.

1. lose 10.1 lbs by Feb 1 2005 * updated 2/6/05 and lose 101 lbs by the end of the 1001 days.


2. drink a gallon of water a day.


3. get at least 6 hours of sleep a night, every night for 30 days


4. get my belly pierced


5. get my GPA above 3.5.


6. exercise, 3X/week. for 2 months.


7. take a vacation, sans resident vagrants


8. get a passport, and a stamp in it


9. practice punctuality for 30 days


10. practice celibacy until I get into a serious relationship.


11. foster & forge relationships with normal women


12. buy a house


13. buy a dog. after i buy the house.


14. host a clothes swap


15. take my new, tagged clothes to the consignment shop


16. get my own personal closet space down to 1 walk-in closet, incl. shoes


17. get everyone else's shyt out of my house.


18. get Hammy into a better after-school program


19. workout some kind of visitation schedule with Hammy's sperm donor.


20. go fishing on a fishing boat


21. end this JC business once and for all.


22. send thank you's to: all my godmothers: real, fake & spiritual


23. design AND sew myself one fabulous, to die for outfit


24. re-learn to knit & crochet. make one wearable item for someone else


25. get porcelain veneers for my front teeth. and some whitening. and caps.


26. emote my inner diva with: full makeup, "done" hair, and fake eyelashes.


27. contribute to my 401K plan * updated 2/6/05


28. take advantage of the company discounted stock purchase plan * updated 2/6/05


29. diversify my portfolio


30. create a budget every month - and stick to it


31. plan all my purchases, even the so-called 'impulse' buys


32. brownbag my lunch for 30 days straight * updated 2/6/05


33. take a trip to NY


34. mend the ties that bind my family to the sperm donor's family * updated 2/6/05


35. reestablish relationships with the:PR Princess, orig. Nerd & G-hetto family


36. spend < 1 hr daily farting around on the web, outside of work & school related stuff.


37. register my own friggin domain * updated 2/6/05


38. quit the safe, stable full-time gig, and do some risky, yet more profitable consulting work


39. routinely volunteer 8 hrs/month to various worthy causes


40. get a tribal tattoo. from my tribe. and know exactly what it means.


41. figure out what tribe I'm from, if I even have one.


42. have semi-regular (bimonthly) dinner parties, and invite my closest friends


43. buy some real dinnerware & flatware that I like


44. take a series of colonics & cleanse my colon (I know, TMI)


45. purge myself of my sugar & chocolate addictions


46. take up a healthy vice, like social drinking


47. make a hair commitment, either nappy or non-nappy, and stick with it. * updated 2/6/05


48. get in touch with the brother that I don't know


49. visit the remnants of family I have left


50. fulfill my romantic ballgown, chignon & waltzing in moonlight fantasy.


51. raise my performance eval. score at the current gig by at least 10% w/in 1 year.


52. familiarize myself with wines & their proper use


53. practice diversity at work


54. learn the art of networking from either SG, EJ or E (the masters)


55. obtain a big screen tv (notice I didn't say buy...)


56. wear a 2-piece swimsuit


57. pay off 1 department store charge, and 1 credit card


58. get the other cards below 40% of their available credit limit


59. go 7 days without any road rage incidents: no tailgating, flashing my brights, cutting people off, or driving > 80MPH. And get rid of the traffic-induced Turrette's syndrome - I'm inadvertently teaching Hammy how to curse


60. teach Hammy to ride a bike


61. get Hammy out of any form of Pull-up, Goodnight or training pants


62. practice random acts of kindness routinely


63. be more forthrightly honest - I must either keep phonies outta the inner circle, or keep it real.


64. purge the evil bytch from my heart. Yes, this is measurable and defined.


65. have my apartment repainted.


66. incorporate monthly trips to bath & body works CVS (I can find decent knock offs) into the budget


67. buy a new hard drive


68. organize & backup all my music files


69. learn to play golf


70. take a voice lesson, and put my inner Jill Scott to rest


71. nurture houseplants at home, not just at work


72. take a dip in a jacuzzi


73. get over my aversion to seafood


74. give up pork completely


75. minmize other meats to once a day, then 2-3X/week, then occasionally


76. normalize my iron & cholesterol levels thru nutrition, no supplements


77. get rid of my home phone, retaining my high-speed access & cell.


78. gather my home office space


79. listen to another genre of music foreign to me, like bluegrass, world music, country, etc.


80. expand my music library to really embrace hip-hop, r&b, and house.


81. learn to merengue, and take my final in a lowcut salsa dress


82. use the Twinz to solicit free drinks at Hairston's or the Tanqueray


83. learn Spanish via instructional audio tapes


84. attend just 1 nat'l Blk-focused vacation event:Black Ski Summit, Essence Festival, etc.


85. take a continuing ed. photography class, blow up the best result & hang it in my house


86. regain my dancer's grace - take ballet lessons, again


87. find one relatively challenging but low impact home improvement project, and finish it, sans testosterone


88. institute self stress-relieving techniques for 30 days


89. take piano lessons


90. learn to play the guitar


91. clip coupons & shop sales for everyday items & groceries for 3 months


92. learn to play spades confidently


93. sip mint juleps or mojitos on my porch


94. make love on a beach at the edge of an ocean


95. get a second job or sideline hustle


96. take a gambling trip


97. figure out a way to get my domain/blog to make money


98. participate in the political campaign for a candidate I truly believe in


99. attend a ball


100. go horseback riding


101. learn to water ski

Yes, I know it's not done, but I'm starting regardless, and I'll add the other 70+ shortly...

Done! Now to get it started... *out*

then you gotta Breathe...

oh yeah - first off - Happy Friggin New Year!!!

Aight, now that I got that out, I gotta few things to share with a few folks. And FYI, I gotta bottle of Korbel lubricating the er - sharing, if ya know what I mean. So this is an idea I got from Fave, who got it from xquizzyt1, who got it from Fran, but I also saw it on Elle's page and so on...and so on...

1. I opened up my heart to you, something that I hadn't done for years. I shared things with you that I'd never shared, and gave you my love unconditionally. I created a space for you in my soul, and you entered that space and took a shyt in it. Even though it's been years, I'm finally wise enough to realise that i'm not healed, and may never heal. I have scars, physical scars from when you hit me. However the emotional scars from your manipulations dwarf any physical scars I bear. I wear them insecurely, hoping they won't show, but knowing they're as obvious as the striations on Maj. Cabot Forbes back. My desperate hope that someday I'll be able to move on is as futile as my attempts to get you to be the father our son deserves. My hate would be too easy an emotion for you to face, and a waste of my energy. More than anything, more than hate or disgust or contempt, I regret ever stopping to give you my number, and if I could take that moment back, I would. The fact that you use my obvious disdain for you as an excuse to not step up, be a man, and take care of your son just reinforces that regret. I could not possibly have picked a worse choice to share a lifetime parental tie with.


2. You unknowingly taught me the meaning of grace. Not just God's mercy, but that idea of grace, through all things. In the face of adversity, in the midst of heart-wrenching pain, when the world seems to be falling apart around you. You taught me not just to survive desperate situations, but to thrive even while enduring great pain, because that's His will. You have no idea, but as you spoke of angels, I realized that you were an angel in my life, God's way of speaking to me. Thank you for making me realize that angels walk among us, and teaching me how to recognize them.


3. You left me huge shoes to fill. You were the embodiment of strength, you endured so much, yet always kept it moving, no matter what happened. Somehow, I never felt good enough for you, and never felt close enough to you, even when I laid my head on your shoulder and cried in your arms. It's hard for me to remember your touch, hard to imagine what it was like for you to be pleased with me. I wish we could've been closer, and wish I could've known you as a person, instead of an icon. I miss you.


4. It's hard for me to talk to you honestly, without judgement. I think you're beautiful, intelligent, witty, admirable, ambitious and sexy; yet it's hard for me to get you to realize these things about yourself. You're so incredibly hard on yourself, you're your own worst critic. If I could only get you to realize that divinity resides in your brain, your breast, your heart, your soul, and between your thighs, you'd probably stop looking for validation externally. The sense of belonging and purpose that you've been searching for lie within, if only you'd love yourself the way you love others around you. Stop giving yourself away.


5. You are my best friend, and squarely the most naturally positive person I've ever met. You truly exude an enthusiasm for all that's good in the world, and you do it naturally and effortlessly. Sometimes I worry that this world we live in is too hard on a soul as gentle as yours, and inevitably will corrupt you. So, I selfishly enjoy your sunshine while I can, and hope I can comfort you if your spirit is ever broken. Please, please...never, ever change.


6. You saved my life. Your unbridled joy is so amazingly infectious, no man, woman or child can possibly resist, and neither could I. Your spirit is light. It's hard for me to acknowledge your shortcomings, knowing that you're pure joy. I sometimes feel ill-equipped to raise you. I don't understand how your mind works, and don't know if I ever will. I don't think I'm good enough for you.


7. Thank you for unwittingly being there for me. By just being yourself, you took me under your wing, protected me, nurtured me and helped me heal. I wish I could ask you to teach me more than you have, but I don't think you could bear that. I'm scared that your time here on earth is drawing to an end. I miss you, but know if I reach out to you, the things I have to tell you would make your heart sink, and I can't do that to you, again.


8. You're too intelligent to squander your talents. While I admire you so much for the selfless things you do, I think that you give too much of yourself away. I hope that I haven't left you large shoes to fill, or scars you will bear forever. Please don't follow in my footsteps, I took the hard road. I want things to be easier for you.


9. Your ass needs to grow up and stop allowing your circumstances to define you. Plan your life, don't let your situation determine where you end up 10 or even 20 years from now. You're floundering, you've been floundering for a long time, and if you keep it up, you'll flounder until you die. Stop using "the man", "the system", your childhood, your mother, and your so-called lack of education/intelligence as an excuse to not achieve your goals. First of fucking all, you have to have goals to actually achieve them. Start here: 1) give up smoking weed, 2) try to determine the path you want the rest of your life to take and 3) figure out what hard work you need to do to walk that path. No excuses, just fucking get to it, dayum.


10. If you don't get your bitchy, sorry trifling ass away from me now, I swear I'm gonna bite you. No really, you prolly taste nasty, so I'd rather just stab you. I don't give a fuck what you were thinking - I don't want you. I know I deserve better than you're offering me, so since I'm giving you a bye year, do us both a favor: get the fuck out from around me,get your funky ass attitude together, and don't come back until you can come correct. If you don't know what that means, ask your father how he came at your mother - that is if you know who dad is. if you don't, just stay away...I've got enough dysfunction in my life as is...


11. Not only are you not that good looking, but everything you've ever told me about your life is a fabrication. You don't have your degree, you didn't work for that Fortune 500, your friends aren't all balling outta control, you don't deal exclusively with dymes - it's all lies. The things i admired about you, your intelligence, your drive, your charm - all are suspect because of your exaggerations. I'm your "play-sister", you were supposed to keep it real with me, of all people.


12. Deep within you're still that skinny, plain, country girl, screaming for attention. I see through that vixen-nish bullshyt, through the "earth-mother" advice, and through the fake "homegirl" exterior. Oh, and I'm hip to your inner-skank: I know you slept with your married boss while you were engaged, just like I know that football team staff member was married when you slept with him. You can't hold water, and you'll use anyone that can possibly get you closer to whatever trophy you want that will validate your existence. And I also know that you admire me more than you care to admit to anyone, including me or yourself. Sweetie, I know my homegirls, and I don't trust you enough to call you one of them.

YARGHHHH - that was venomous...sheesh. Aight, now that that's out, I need a shower and another glass of Korbel just to return to normalcy. *out*