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Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Purposeful Pu**y

Fella's have you ever noticed that there is a DISTINCT difference between sex with a woman who is content with mediocrity, versus a woman who is ambitious and about her paper? Its almost like it has a DIRECT affect on the pussy!
You DON'T have to be a mathematician to solve this equation:
Bitter Woman = Bitter Pussy. That simple!
Then you have a woman like ME. Accessorized with what I'd like to call, "Purposeful Pussy." I know you're wondering just what this means, right?
Well.....for starters, every woman does NOT have "Purposeful Pussy", and unfortunately every man hasn't had the pleasure of experiencing such a marvel. One that I can't imagine being omitted from the 7 wonders of the world.
As a matter of fact, it's received notoriety as the "Mystical Monster." Its been known to change a pit bull into a kind little kitty cat, grown men into thumb-sucking babies, and even has the power to draw blood from a turnip!
"Purposeful Pussy" comes along with a woman who strives to be the best in ALL aspects of her world; including her responsibilities as a lover. She is a woman who understands that she isn't perfect, but gives the impression that she is by embracing her flaws as tightly as her Kegel muscles. She accepts the hand she's dealt, and turns it into Vegas, INSTEAD OF worrying about the number of times she's renigged. Its like the juices of confidence and drive excrete from the canal; similar to that of a Tsunami - washing away all inhibitions, insecurities, or self-doubt.
"Purposeful Pussy" isn't for just ANY man. It takes a self-assured, motivated, goal-oriented man to appreciate such a commodity. A man who understands her worth, and realizes WITHOUT intimidation, her enhancement to his life. Only ONE type of man, is worthy of this treasure.
A man garnished with "Driven Dick."

................Stay tuned...............

Saturday, January 15, 2011

If There Is Anything You Need To Know...... Call Me (8/13/2010)

The best advice I ever got was from my husband's mistress. Funny we convince ourselves that all we REALLY have to do is "get a nigga to marry us" and the rest is HIS job. It is perfectly fine to adapt that way of thinking, as long as you don't mind him missing a dinner every now and then, because he's busy fuc---, excuse me, I mean, having "meetings" with his "business partner". The reality is, nothing makes more sense than the old quote, "What you won't do, the next bitch will". It's that simple. So the choice is yours, step your shit up or you might as well call the bitch from his "job" and tell her she can come pick his punk ass up! Real Shit! He's on his way out anyway. Probably while you're in your room, on the phone, crying to your 300lb best friend about how you can't lose the baby fat from your fourth grade son. Bitch, replace the donut with your man's dick, if you plan on keeping him.

I'll never forget the night the bitch called me. It was our one year anniversary and we were just coming in from dinner with friends. I had a suite booked for us that evening, but because of an "unexpected business crisis", he had to drop me off at home so he could once again, "save his business".

Just as he left out of the door, the phone rang. Was it coincidence that the call came in at this particular time? The voice on the other end was poised, confident, yet still laced with empathy.... Or maybe it was pity. "Hello," I said. The words she spoke after, pierced me to my core.

"Before you hang up, you can allow your pride to continue to consume your logic, or you can humble yourself, listen to some real advice, and make this the last anniversary you spend talking to your husband's mistress on the phone."

"I'm listening," I mumbled. I got up and closed the door, unsure of what I had just said, but had no desire to take it back or hang up the phone.

For the next hour, I listened defenseless, at the details surrounding the relationship my husband shared for the last year, with a woman who effortlessly shared her heart and soul with the man I TOOK VOWS WITH. She spoke of the many nights they spent dancing, talking, making love until the wee hours of the morning, while I sat at home convincing myself that he was out working to provide for our family.

At that moment, any confidence I had left was stripped. I felt my defenses go up as I rudely asked her, "What kind of a woman does this shit?".

She replied with, "The kind of woman YOU need to start being to your husband if you plan on keeping him. Listen baby girl, a man LOVES a confident woman. Makes his dick hard without you having to place one hand on the shit. A woman who KNOWS what she wants and goes after it. Men don't want a needy bitch. And frankly, that's who you've become to him. Which is why he's on his way here now. You NEED him to be the man... I WANT him for the man he is. The thing is, once you start taking care of you, he'll follow. Don't get me wrong, cooking, cleaning, and keeping an organized house, are ALL great. But they don't mean shit if you ain't bending over on those clean counter tops and letting him hit that shit from the back sometimes. Because to keep it real, I don't know one nigga who's out with his homeboys talking about how clean his mutha fuckin' house is. Did you know he loved freshly squeezed lemonade? But any ordinary lemon wouldn't do. He prefers carefully selected lemons from Trader Joe's. Every Saturday morning, I would make a special trip to get his lemons. Something you wouldn't dare do because, "it's out of your way". Which is why he now "works" on Sundays...... Putting in overtime at my house. While he's drinking his lemonade alongside a home cooked meal complete with me as dessert. Do you know last Sunday I actually watched tears fall from his eyes as he told me that he couldn't imagine "pussy so good"? Don't be mistaken, it's not the way I stroke his dick that has him "working late", "working out", "forgetting things at the store", etc... It's the way I stroke his ego as a whole. He's a man. And I make him feel every bit of that every chance I get. But the reality is, I'm not cut out to be number 2. And when he finally made the decision to make me number 1, it was his ability to walk so easily from his family, that lessened my desire for him. So tonight will be our final night together. And as an anniversary gift to you both, I'll gracefully return him to you. But I couldn't do so without enlightening you first. It's up to you if you take heed to the advice you've been given. But in my opinion, it is imperative that you do. He's a good man, just not for me. "

It was then that I heard her doorbell ring. Before hanging up, she ended the conversation with these six words, "Don't worry. I won't fuck him."

I called it a night knowing I'd be up early the next morning, driving across town, to Trader Joe's.





***** Although my pieces are completely fictional, they are inspired by life's realities. They are meant solely for the reader's enjoyment. So if you find yourself offended by anything that is read, feel free to delete your name from my friends' list. I'm a big girl, I can take it :-) **********

It's Time For A Wardrobe Change (8/15/2010)

Clearly, there is a "stupid bug" out there biting unsuspecting men and women. Case and point taken, if he was late for your first date, he will probably be late for the last. Or worse...THE WEDDING. See, too often we ignore the signs in the beginning...failing to acknowledge and more importantly, CORRECT the shit. The result? YOU'VE BEEN BIT! STUPID! By ALL definitions of the word! We expect the best houses, cars, and handbags...but why not the best RELATIONSHIPS?? The "Stupid bug" bit me about a few years back. Apparently, he bit two of my "friends" around the same time, because we were ALL sleeping with the same man and we ALL secretly knew about the other. STILL meeting for happy hour on Fridays, helping with birthday parties for our kids, and still defending the other friends to folks outside of the "circle". And although I was receiving regular updates about my man's "activities", it still wasn't enough. I was still ironing his clothes for work and sending him on his way with a kiss. I won’t lie...many mornings it was a kiss to BOTH "heads." My reasoning? He's an "excellent" provider and dad. But wait! On second thought, I DID pay half the mortgage, and whatever I couldn't do for the kids, my mother provided. So what was he REALLY contributing anyway? Am I this stupid? Settling for half, or worse, a third, instead of setting some boundaries and goals for this "relationship"? Apparently, YES! Because three years later, I was STILL indulging in the bullshit! Mediocrity had become my new wardrobe. Actually, mediocrity had become my life. I settled for sub-standard friendships, in addition to my sub-standard relationship. Time with my girls was no longer about maintaining genuine friendships. It had turned into being together as much as possible in an effort to minimize the availability they had to spend with my man. In fact, I think this was the goal amongst all of us. I realized that the companionship of a man became more important than the loyalty of friends on the night friend #2 invited me to have drinks. Friend #1 claimed to be ill and was unable to attend. I attempted to make a courtesy call to my man letting him know I was hanging out with the girls that night. Instead, I saw a text from him that read, "Jay got picked up on a DUI - gotta go by his moms, be home late." Now the "stupid bug" would have me believing that my man was a loyal and dedicated friend, but I knew DAMN well, there was more to THAT story! In the midst of curling my hair, my cell rings with Friend #1's number showing on Caller ID. I say "hello" repeatedly, with no response. Something tells me not to disconnect the call. I sat on the phone and listened for a good 60 seconds. Now, I KNEW 10 seconds into the call what the moans and groans were but I stayed on longer. Then I heard a ringtone...one I was all too familiar with...one my nine year old son and me had created for his daddy. My nine year old rapping and I singing backup. I hung up. Everything I had known and ignored was authenticated in one minute. The choice I made was to bundle up in the jacket of mediocrity I had worn so well. After all, I found comfort in knowing he would be back in my bed tonight, that's all that mattered. I stared in the mirror at the reflection of a feeble "woman's" face that was unrecognizable to me. Determined to have a much-needed night out, I made myself vodka and cran, held the cran, and finished getting dressed. After drink #2, I grabbed my clutch, fluffed my hair once more, and smacked my freshly glossed lips together, just in time for my friend's arrival. I hopped in her car with a smile on my face, never mentioning what had just occurred. "Let's do this" I said as we drove off. We arrive at "the spot." It’s crowded, bumper-to-bumper traffic. Parking is unbelievable. We jump out of her shit and immediately get into "DIVA" mode. We grab a drink and make our way through the club. We made our way to the second level and see a circle forming on the first. My friend and I were laughing and joking that it had to be some hoe on the ground "Showing her ass." It's not until we heard the DJ say, "WE HAVE A YES!!" that we move a little closer to the crowd. We were damn near blinded by the rock that sat on the ring, but what REALLY caught our attention was the man holding the ring..."KEDRAN!" Friend #2 and I scream simultaneously. But what was even more shocking was whom the ring now belonged to... Friend #1; who looked into my eyes and pretended to not even know who I was. I looked over at "my man”, with the words "I'm sorry" escaping from his lips. I turned around and walked away, ignoring Friend #2 repeatedly screaming my name.

It was at this time that I removed my jacket and left it on the table that held our drinks. The jacket of mediocrity that had once been a timeless piece was no longer in season.

What a Tangled Web We Weave (8/16/2010)

What a tangled web we weave when we introduce our "representative", instead of ourselves.

Why do we feel it necessary to create these falsehoods when meeting new people, instead of being confident enough to show the "real us?" Take for example the "brotha in the club". Confident, manicured, well spoken, and "SINGLE." Or so we think. He approaches us...as smooth as soft serve chocolate ice cream, nuts included, fresh from cold stone. Immediately...the bait is snatched. First thing he does? Hands over a business card with his name, and some "promotions”,"entertainment" OR "photography" company that he "owns". Now..Common sense ladies would tell us that if there's no fax number, or physical address on that bitch...HOW REPUTABLE IS THIS BUSINESS?

But instead, we keep our focus on the smooth skin, straight teeth, tailored suit and "single" status. He tells us how he is a "different type of man", "not like the rest", and that he wouldn’t feel right unless he walks us to our car. "Please make sure you call when you make it home. I won't be able to rest unless I know you made it safe." Immediately we start thinking about this fool being "potential husband material." The weaving has started.



What a tangled web we weave when we create our own realities instead of looking at what’s right there in front of us.

After a few conversations, and late night "text" sessions, we decide to meet. "Hell no, I am not giving him none on the first date."

Ok, but we can’t wait to get his ass over. We drop the kids off, clean the house spotless, and put Pandora on Jill Scott Radio, which by the way is the shit!! We take a few shots of vodka, stick a piece of gum in our mouth, put some open books on the table and dim the lights. The doorbell rings. "Hey. I was just reading. Almost didn’t hear the door." PLEASE!! You know damn well you were NOT reading.... haven’t looked at that book since you graduated college 5 YEARS AGO! You were too busy shaping that "landing strip" for the Negro you "weren’t giving any too." He compliments your house, tells you how refreshing it is to finally meet a woman like you. He speaks of how he's never been married because he refuses to "settle" for anything less than a righteous woman. Says he made the decision not to have children, because when he finally does, it will "be with the woman that god chose for him." You stare at him in awe and silently thank God for sending you the right man, at the same time trying to remember if the crotch of your newly purchased panties are lined, to avoid leaving a wet on your cashmere colored suede couch.

You talk for hours, about "Real shit", and how he would never disrespect you by sleeping with you on the first date. "Thank You", you say. Moments later, you grab his hand and lead him to your room. Within seconds, you are both asshole naked, with your leg propped up on the bathroom counter. In 2 hours, this nigga has gone from being your "God sent" to your "Daddy". Ha!

At the end of the night, you convince yourself that you have definitely met the "one", despite the fact that his phone hasn't stopped vibrating since he got there. Or that his car was keyed from the front bumper to the back door. Not my business, you say.



What a tangled web we weave when we start changing who WE are for the sake of a "representative."

Soon, our every thought is consumed with making sure we keep our "new man". We know he is only available during "specific hours" because after all, his business keeps him busy. We begin rescheduling our OWN shit, so that we can stay available during the times that he is "free." We start making regular stops to the mall to pick up new "bra and panty sets". We've all of a sudden become Bath N Body's best customer. Shrimp and fresh asparagus replaces the nuggets and frozen dinners that once occupied our coolers.

Soon our regular visits become swapped with "I'm sorry babe, late night meeting." Or "I have to drive to Long Beach, can’t make it tonight". We STILL convince ourselves that we have found Mr. Right, even though it is now 5 months in, and we have YET to call his ass at HOME.



What a tangled web we weave when we KNOW we are sharing, but we still chose to live in oblivion.

You are now receiving more calls from private numbers than you did when you let your grandma use your cell phone number on all the dumb ass sweepstakes forms she filled out. Only difference the sweepstakes reps weren't calling at 2 am...or were they? I mean every time he's there your phones are BOTH ringing at the SAME time from the SAME private number. Guess he has a gambling grannie too! Every time he's there, he has to be gone no later than 2 am. Isn’t that the time the clubs close? Well, on Saturday nights it’s because he has to get up earlyfor church on Sundays. But why is he ALWAYS dressed in slacks and a dress shirt, or a suit whenever he comes over? Even if it’s at 11 pm? Oh yeah, he said he's coming from a "Business meeting." Damn, he’s such a hard worker. I wonder where all his "hard worker" money goes. I'm always the one buying the food, stocking the bar with "drank", and spending all my money on lingerie I don't need.



What a tangled web we weave when we start participating in the lies, stopping our own growth.

"Listen baby. I love you so much I need to be honest with you. See I have a situation....................My heart isn’t there, but....... I’m sure you understand. Please just be patient. I promise, it’s just a matter of time."

So we start sympathizing, improvising, and becoming stagnant in our growth because "This man is worth waiting for". How did we get HERE in our lives that it is now ok to settle for something that we would NEVER fathom doing? My mama would beat me blue, if she even thought I would CONSIDER engaging in relations with someone else’s man! But that power of rationalization is a mutha!!!!! Can creep up on you like the pain of that wisdom tooth that should’ve BEEN out! Next thing you know our feelings are so wrapped up into what we thought was "Heaven sent". We start straying away from the church, isolating ourselves from our friends...consumed with the idea of a life with the "representative". All the while, the web is now out of control. The lies have become so overwhelming on both sides, that no one can even decipher the truth anymore.



What a tangled web we weave when we introduce our "representatives" instead of ourselves.

Friday nights had become routine to me. I would wait for him to arrive after leaving a "business meeting", which was always around 11pm. 11:05 exactly, the doorbell rings, and he walks in. "Baby, let's not even talk. Just pull your panties down." I turn into the submissive freak that he loved and give him what he asked for. The couch that I had once obsessed over keeping clean was now decorated with spots of passion. After our weekly session, we get up, put our clothes on, without bathing, and agree that a trip to Wal-Mart was needed. The Vodka was down to the last drop, and we were out of condoms. We hop in MY car. We couldn’t drive his too often...it was leased and he had to keep his "miles low".

We walk in Wal-Mart, grab our necessities and head to aisle 19 to check out. The cashier was obviously in no mood to converse with 30 somethin' year olds giggling and buying condoms at midnight, because her mood was horrible. Maybe it was the smell of passion that escaped his fingers when he handed over the money.

Before she could accept it, we both hear a woman's voice. "Sweetie, what are you doing here? You asked ME to pick up the wine. I expected to beat you home." I was face to face with a carmel-skinned, small framed woman carrying a bottle of Merlot. "Hello. I'm Shay. Ronnie's wife."

Like a well-rehearsed line in an upcoming Tyler Perry film I responded, "Nice to meet you Shay. I've heard so much about you. I went to school with Ronnie. What a coincidence running into him here."

I bowed my head in shame, ignoring the cashier’s looks of confusion and disgust.

"Bye you two. Ronnie, it was nice seeing you. Take care."

I walked out of Wal-Mart knowing that my representative had just made her first formal introduction.

Be Careful What You Wish For (8/19/2010)

Kelvin couldn't wait to see his boo. He had just made Senior VP of Marketing at FlowLine Records and was already making plans for the six figure income he would be making. He locked up his desk, closed the door to his office, and headed to his car. He grinned at the thought of trading in the 06 Chevy Tahoe he drove, for the 2011 black on black Range Rover perfectly accented with the 24 inch custom Lexani rims he'd always wanted. "Damn, I can't wait," his mouth watered as he thought of all the new haters that would be added to the long ass list that already existed.

He dialed Sharey's number. She answered on the first ring. "Baby, I'm almost there. Go ahead and get us a seat." Sharey and Kelvin met in high school and dated for about six months their senior year. After graduation, Kelvin went away to FAMU, while Sharey remained local and attended Clark University. They spoke regularly during their freshman year, but eventually the distance was too much to keep the flame burning. Kelvin had dated many women.... hundreds maybe. But none of them excited him, or stimulated his brain (both big and small), like Sharey did. Every time he thought about her in those red laced panties the day he left, it made him wish he would have attended Morehouse over FAMU.

The ink on his marketing degree was still wet when he booked a flight and moved back to the ATL. Being amongst his own people gave him a joy that no other city could. He loved Atlanta. Within two months of being home, he purchased a house, car, and secured a marketing position with the largest recording label on the south end. Coincidentally, Sharey also had a career in the industry. She was a publishing editor for THE largest black entertainment magazine nationwide. It was six years since Kelvin returned to Atlanta, and him and Sharey had been exclusive since. He'd been trying desperately to convince her of taking the relationship to the next level. Sharey was the only woman he could see himself spending his life with. But every time the subject came up, Sharey insisted she wasn't ready for "that" yet. It was the same free spirited nature that attracted him to her, that also pushed him away. Her flirtatious ways were often times the reason for their arguments,but it didn't take much to convince him that she was all he needed.

Kelvin's best friend Dave always warned him to keep an eye on her, but he took it with a grain of salt. He was aware of his friend's attraction to Sharey and knew his "suspicion" was generated from jealousy. There was one time in particular when Sharey went on one of her many "trips". "Man why do you pay for that bitches trips? There's no way I'd let MY woman be gone in another country with NO supervision! You trust that bitch like that?" Dave acted like a broad at times. He would be so pissed at how I was spending MY money on MY woman, that we would get into extreme arguments and not talk the whole time she was gone. "Fuck that nigga". Kelvin knew that Dave was genuinely concerned for his well being, after all, they had been friends for 25 years,but he was beginning to grow tired of his punk ass ways.

The arguments never lasted long. Sharey would always return from her trip, catch wind of the feud, and immediately begin reuniting the friends. She would remind Kelvin of how much he loves Dave and would ask him why he couldn't be more "laid back like him." "Maybe then you wouldn't get your panties in a bunch every time he said something you didn't like," she would say. It seemed like she was always on his side, but because Kelvin respected her opinion so much, he usually gave in. But this time was different. It had been two weeks since Sharey returned, and he still hadn't spoken with or seen Dave. Even their two times a week work out sessions had stopped. Kelvin noticed lately that Sharey was constantly on edge and the slightest disagreement would set her off. They once had a sex life that any nigga would pay to have. That too had become non existent. It seems her periods went from lasting five days to damn near three weeks. He couldn't remember the last time she gave him head.

"Baby what's wrong."

"I wish you would just stop Kelvin. I need a fucking break. I can't breathe with you hounding me every day. Just because we don't fuck all the time, doesn't mean you have to be moping around here like you lost your damn mama. Damn you act like a bitch!"

Kelvin felt that the pressures of her career were finally starting to push her over the edge. He knew he had to do something to help her relax. He figured the intense schedule he had been following had caused her to feel some type of negligence from him. So he decided to send flowers and a spa package to show his appreciation for her.



The card attached read:

"Meet me at the airport tomorrow at 2:00PM for a flight that leaves at 4:00. Pack enough clothes for seven days. I've already arranged your absence with your job. I love you, Kelvin"



Sharey knew that Kelvin loved her and decided this trip would be the perfect time for her to finally agree to being the woman he deserved. Kelvin was a good man and in her heart she knew she would never find anyone who would love her the way he did. She set up her absence greetings on her e-mails and voice mails, finished a final album review, and made one last phone call before leaving her office. "Hey, we need to talk. I'll be there tomorrow at noon. See you then." She spent the afternoon shopping for her trip and even picked up a small gift for Kelvin once they arrived. She was so happy to finally make things right. She had the most peaceful sleep that night, knowing that tomorrow there would be no more lies.



Kelvin packed up the truck, dropped the key off at his neighbor's, and decided that since he had an hour to spare before he leaving, he would stop at Dave's to patch things up. There was no way he could thoroughly enjoy himself with such a heavy heart. Plus he wanted to share the news with Dave that he was going to propose and was confident that THIS time, she was going to accept. He stopped at the corner store and grabbed two beers before pulling up to Dave's complex. Kelvin let himself in because it was Saturday and with Dave working the night shift on Fridays,he didn't usually get out of bed before two o'clock. He set the beers on the counter and went straight to Dave's bedroom. The door was cracked. To Kelvin's surprise he saw a pair of limited edition Red Bottoms that looked all to familiar. If he remembered correctly, those were the same pair of pumps he got Sharey last Valentine's Day. It was all she talked about for months. His intuition told him to take a closer look so he softly pushed the door open a little more. That's when he saw Sharey, naked, on her knees, unzipping Dave's pants, and placing his manhood in her mouth.

Kelvin was so devastated he couldn't find the strength or words to confront either one of them, so he decided to just leave. He left out the door, grabbed the beers, and popped one open before getting in his truck. He drove off unsure of where he was going or what decision should be made. All he knew was he loved Sharey with every bone in his body.



Sharey washed up, got dressed, and felt relieved that she finally made the right decision. She hugged Dave one last time, and reminded him that their affair could never be spoken of. "You're a good man, Dave and one day you'll find the right woman. Take care." She arrived at the airport and immediately started looking for Kelvin. She was afraid that she was late because "on time" for him always meant early. She checked her bags in and went straight to their terminal. For some reason she felt an uneasiness that just wouldn't go away. She scanned through the other passengers looking for Kelvin and figured he must be in the bathroom. She tried his cell phone with no answer so she decided to confirm whether or not he had already checked in. The Check-In attendant at the counter looked at her and asked, "Are you Sharey?" Sharey smiled and confirmed her identity. The lady handed Sharey a blue box and a folded up piece of paper. "Kelvin asked that I give you this." Confused she took the items and made her way back to her seat. Sharey opened the box and was surprised to see the box was empty.



She unfolded the letter and began reading:



Dear Sharey, My heart is as empty as the box you're holding. Seems we've both had many wishes. You wished I was more of the man you wanted. And my only wish was for your happiness. Seems you found that in Dave. Mama always said, "Be Careful What You Wish For."

Nick Knows He Lied When He Said, " Love Don't Cost a Thing" (8/24/2010)

Nina pulled her creme sheer curtains back, opened her window and looked outside at her newly planted garden. Orchids were her favorite flower, and she promised herself that if she ever got a place of her own the first thing she would do is plant some, right outside of her bedroom window. The aroma immediately drifted in, a scent she yearned for the last few years of her life.

She had one hour to get dressed, and make it across town to her first session of the morning. Nina was a Family Therapist for the Seattle Department of Social Services, and during her "spare" time, she spoke with the women at the State Penitentiary. She attended Howard University right out of High School, and obtained her BA in Human Services. It wasn’t until recently that she was able to go back to school locally and continue her education. She received her Masters in Family Therapy, and was now pursuing her PH.D in Counseling. Nina loved working with people, women particularly. She felt that it was her obligation to "give back", especially knowing how greatly she herself had been blessed.

She walked up the stairs to the conference room. She opened the door, flicked on the lights, and frowned at the dullness of the place. She hated the gray paint on the walls and could never imagine how the state expected people to "feel good" in such a cold atmosphere.

"Oh Well," she thought. "It's just a matter of time before I get my own center. Hold On Girl." She smiled to herself.

She had about 20 minutes to spare before her first family came in, so she decided to familiarize herself with the file first. Her stomach dropped as she read it. It was ridiculously similar to her own life. She put the file down, and reminisced about the last 10 years of her life.

She met Kevin during her first year of college at Howard University. There was a local bar that the students attended, and Kevin was a "regular" there. Not a "regular" student, but a 25-year-old “regular" Club attendee. The minute she saw him, she knew this was a man she wanted to pursue. She was only 19 years old, but always felt and appeared older than her true years. She could tell he was older, by not only the midnight black, perfectly filled goat tee that he rocked, but his demeanor as well. He was "Cool" and didn't talk too much. He smiled at her when he caught her looking; flashing the most beautiful set of dimples, she had ever laid eyes on. She knew before the end of the week she would be in his bed, with her legs wrapped around his broad, chocolate back. Hell, if she had it her way, by the end of the night.

He walked over to her, and she damn near fainted. “

I would hate to impede on someone's territory, but I couldn't help but come over to you. Can I have your number?" She immediately wrote her number down and handed it to him. He Continued.” My name is Kevin. And now that I got what I came for, I can go home. I'll call you baby girl." He smiled, and walked out. She had no idea how costly that number exchange would end up being.

The first year Nina dated Kevin, she loved every minute of it. Although she came from an extremely stable family, there was something about dysfunctional shit that kept her blood flowing. Kevin's background was as screwed up as his credit. His mother had him at 15, he didn’t know his father, and he had been in and out of Y.A since he was 12.

She will never forget their second date. He cried to her, and said that he was so blessed to have met her, and all he needed was "a woman like her" to help him do "right". Nina knew that Kevin had great potential, and wanted nothing more than to show him how to live up to that. She loved Kevin from the moment she saw him, and was determined to help him become the man SHE KNEW he could be.

Nina knew Kevin hustled, but didn't mind as long as he kept it away from their place. She never knew EXACTLY what he did. All she knew was that whatever it was, it was enough to keep her in the flyest gear, driving the hottest whips, and a full refrigerator in the apartment HE paid for. She was able to focus on her education at Howard University, without the distraction of a job.

Everyone in the street knew Kevin as "K-Smooth". Even the bitches. I think they gave him the name because of his skin. It was smooth like melted Hershey's chocolate. The dark kind. Nina always suspected that Kevin messed with other women, but that was the least of her concerns. SHE was the one getting her bills paid. SHE was the one getting a full ticket to school, and most of all SHE was the one he was coming home to every night. Isn’t that all that mattered?

Nina can remember coming home one day early from school and finding her "good friend Rhonda's" car parked outside. She knew that Kevin used alot of her friends to help with his "business", so she figured it must have had something to do with that. She checked the mail on the way to the door. Once inside, she immediately saw Rhonda butt-ass naked riding Kevin on HER living room sofa!

"Rhonda! Bitch how dare you!” Rhonda jumped up screaming, and ran outside. leaving her clothes and purse sprawled out on the floor. Kevin spent the next four hours pleading for Nina's forgiveness, telling her how the feds had questioned Rhonda and that he "Had to" fuck her or she would tell the police everything. Nina loved him even more after that. She knew in her heart that Rhonda wasn't the prettiest bitch and Kevin wouldn't dare jeopardize their relationship for HER unless he had to. Two days later, Kevin took her away to Vegas and married her.

The day of their honeymoon Nina expressed to Kevin that she wanted him to get a "real job" and stop whatever he was doing to make money.

"Kevin, I'm just not comfortable with all of this, and I think I'm ready to have a baby. After all, I finish school in 6 months."

Kevin looked at Nina and replied simply. "You like all the things I buy you baby girl, don't you? Don't you like being able to buy stuff without having to look at the price tag?" He kissed her passionately and walked toward the door. "I'll be back, Gotta make some phone calls."

Nina loved when he called her "baby girl". It made her heart melt, and her juices flow all at the same time. Nina pushed all of the doubts she had about Kevin to the back of her mind. She knew he loved her, and would do anything he asked of her. Especially now that he was her HUSBAND.

The next six months Kevin kept bringing in the money, while Nina finished school. Immediately after graduation, she landed a job as a Human Resources Rep for the Department of Social Services in D.C. She liked the job, but knew that she wanted to do something that involved helping people. She just wasn’t satisfied babysitting a bunch of angry and bitter county workers for 8 hours a day. She knew though, that this was her foot in the door with Social Services, and reminded herself of that regularly.

Nina began to grow tired of the lifestyle her and Kevin were living. It was as if they had become "roommates", simply sharing a common space. While she worked, he ran the streets "making money". She barely spoke with him during the day, and if she did, it was just for a minute when he would call to "Check in". By the time she got home during the evenings, he was either in the garage with a group of friends smoking and talking about NOTHING, or in the house passed out. She decided that they needed to talk. She was fed up with the way things were going.

"Kevin, I'm sick of living this way. You are never here. You don't pay any attention to me. I'm sick of not knowing what you do, it scares me. I don't care about the money anymore. Please this needs to stop."

Kevin looked at her and decided to comply. "Ok, baby girl. You're right. This hustling thing isn’t working anymore anyway. If you really want me to get out of the streets and be "right", I need you to help me. I'll get a job and maybe even go back to school." Nina grinned from ear to ear. She would do anything to help her man. "Ok baby. What is it? Of course I will help you." Kevin explained to her that he had some "people" who were in the loan business, and all they needed was some information to help get the loans "funded."

Nina was confused. "Kevin, I'm not exactly sure how I can help with that. What does that even have to do with anything?"

Kevin continued telling her that by her having access to EVERYONE'S information in the county, all she needed to do was provide their personal information to him, and he would handle the rest.

"Kevin!!! NO! I could lose my job for that. I will not! Are you crazy?", Nina exclaimed!

Before she could continue with her questions, Kevin covered her mouth with his hand, and motioned for her silence. "Maybe we can work on that baby now." He grabbed her hand and led her to their bedroom. That night, he made love to her like never before.

Nina got to work early the next morning. She wanted to make sure no one was in the office when she arrived. Nina can remember the one time she stole something. It was a blow pop from Woolworth's, and her mother tore her ass up for 2 days following the incident. She was terrified to steal, and her stomach was in knots. She logged in to her computer, and began printing a list of profile information from the database. She filtered through the lists, only selecting the ones that lived in "decent neighborhoods", and had no children. She would rather victimize the ones who had money to pay for a credit clean up, and she would never forgive herself if children were impacted by her foolishness.

That night, she took the list home to Kevin. "Baby Girl, I knew you were down for your man. I love you baby. Just a few more months of this, and we'll be sitting pretty."

Nina couldn’t fathom the thought of reliving the fear and anxiety she felt this morning. "Kevin, I can't keep doing this. Please, you said one time."

Kevin's smile turned to a look of pure disgust. "Listen, if you want to make me happy, do what the fuck I said. Fuck you Nina. You never cared about me. I don't have a family to turn to when I need something like you do. I paid for you to go to school, and gave you everything. Now you do me like this? I’m leaving."

The thought of Kevin leaving Nina, made her sick. Who was going to take care of him? Where would he go? "Ok Kevin. But only a few more times. After that, I'm done."

The next few weeks, Nina continued going in early, and pulling profiles for Kevin, carefully choosing the ones that were "Suitable." Kevin began bringing in so much money it was unreal. Valentines Day, he bought her a 2-carat tennis bracelet, and a matching pair of diamond earrings. A month later, they were signing escrow papers on their dream house. Before Nina knew it, 5 months had passed, and her paychecks now included enough overtime hours to cover one full paycheck. She knew she had to stop, but figured she would continue until Christmas. After all, it was only a month away, and she knew Kevin needed the extra money to give to his mother for the Holidays.

December 12th, Nina woke up early, and arrived at work 45 minutes before her shift started, as she always did. She walked into her office and was surprised to find two men, dressed in suits sitting at her desk. Nina felt nauseous and new something wasn’t right.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"Yes, we are with the Washington DC Police Department. Are you Nina Thompson?"

"Yes", Nina replied. "Again, how can I help you?"

"Do you know Kevin Thompson?"

"Yes", Nina replied again.

"He was arrested this morning on suspicion of Identity Theft, and money laundering. He took a deal and advised us that you were providing the information to major loan companies throughout the DC area. You are under arrest. Anything you say or do may be used against you in a court of law...................."

Two days later Nina was sentenced.

"Ms. Thompson, because you have always been an upstanding member of society, I find it more appalling that you would engage in such horrendous acts. You work for an organization that is designed to help and uplift its members. I am disgusted by your actions. Therefore, I am sentencing you to two years in Salinas State Prison for Woman."

Nina spent the first 3 months in a state of severe depression. She tried several times to contact Kevin, but was unsuccessful in her efforts. She lost 15 pounds and had gotten so thin, her parents refused to come see her until she got her "mind right". It was killing her mother to see her in this state, and her father couldn’t afford to miss any more days of work tending to her. It wasn’t until she was served with the divorce papers from Kevin that she realized she needed to get her life together.

She spent the last year of her incarceration reading, and preparing for her "second life".

Immediately upon her release, she moved away to Seattle. Her grandmother always told her to keep a "just in case" stash. That was the one piece of advice she is thankful she adhered to. She enrolled in school, and applied for a job as a Family Therapist at the Department of Social Services in Seattle. She was ecstatic when she received the call for an interview.

"Ms. Thompson, you have a felony, and you are currently on probation? Is that correct?" The interviewer looked old enough to be Nina's mother, but had a softness about her that made Nina comfortable.

"Yes, I do. However, I believe that my journey is what will help those I provide a service to. I have been there. I know what it's about". They spoke for hours, and before Nina left her office, she was offered the job.



Nina was snapped back into reality by a knock on the conference door. Her first family had arrived. A slender, sad looking black woman walked in followed by two teenager girls and a toddler son.

"Hello. You must be Ms. Johnson. Please have a seat." Nina said.

The woman frowned. "I don’t know why in the hell they always give me these stuck up, high sadity counselors who don’t know shit about what I'm going through". "I have lost everything behind a nigga, and I need someone who can help me get over this anger and get back on my feet. I have three damn kids. I damn sure don’t need a bitch like you looking down on me."

Nina smiled. She walked over and placed her hand on Ms. Thompsons shoulder.

"Ms. Thompson, I understand you’re hurt. You know whoever said "Love don’t cost a thing...LIED. And believe it or not, I wasn't always this high sadity bitch you think I am. Let me share something with you before we begin our session."

Nina started from the beginning.

"I was 19 years old when I met the nigga who cost me everything..................."

The Masquerade (8/31/2010)

Donna couldn't believe an entire year had passed since she was sworn in as Detroit's first African American Female judge. She can remember Like it was yesterday, the accomplished feeling she had on that very morning. Everything she had ever dreamed of as a young girl was hers. Her husband, William was one of Michigan's top defense attorneys. Her daughter attended Yale university, and she owned a home that even the wealthiest admired. It sat on ten acres of perfectly manicured land, with a pool, full tennis and basketball courts, and a separate eight car garage that housed William's luxurious automobile collection.His prized possession was a 1966 Shelby Cobra which was currently worth over a million dollars. Sometimes he would go out and spend hours staring at her. It reminded him that in spite of everything he had been through, that he had "finally made it."



William spent the majority of his free time, vacations included, traveling to car shows worldwide. It wasn't until Donna complained that he reluctantly gave in, and actually went on a trip with her. He never understood vacationing in "much-too expensive" spots like Jamaica or Puerto Rico just for the sake of "showing off". He would much rather be somewhere else..minus Donna, indulging in his own "hobby." But after 30 years of marriage, William knew what battles to fight, and which ones were better left alone. So he continued with the unnecessary trips. After all, his hobby was too precious to give up.



Monday morning. Donna prepared her lunch with the same contents as she had everyday for the last year. A turkey breast sandwich on rye bread, a bag of baby carrots, two oatmeal raisin cookies and a diet lipton green tea. Donna fully understood that "good genes" weren't the only thing responsible for her size 7 figure,perfect skin,and all her OWN hair at 59. It took some hard work of her own; something she was definitely not afraid of.



Predictability and punctuality were Donna's most apparent characteristics.Court started daily at 8 A.M., however Donna was upstairs, seated and robed in her chambers by 7:15. She had no tolerance for judges who "showered in their own power." She was extremely grateful for her position and was aware of how easily it could be stripped from her. She never, for even a moment, thought she was above the law. It was because of her honesty, fairness, and integrity that she had earned her title as the most respected judge in Wayne County.



William was equally dedicated to his career. He loved being a Criminal Defense Attorney. Partly because of his disdain for the judicial system; but mostly because of his desire to help those who can't afford outstanding legal representation. He received numerous offers to join his wife on the other side of the bench but he could never see himself as a judge. He had too many issues that needed "straightening out" before he could "play God" on a daily basis. He was cool right where he was.



William pulled a mint green button down shirt from his closet. He stood in front of the full-length mirror and looked disgustingly at the scar on the right side of his stomach. After 50 years, he still felt the pain of his flesh burning, and remembered the shameful circumstances surrounding the scar. He was thanked God for Donna who had spent many nights waking him from nightmares; never judging him. He quickly changed his thinking and finished dressing.



William hopped in his "everyday car", the S550 Mercedes, silver with black interior, and drove 5 miles to his office. He knew that strategic planning was the reason he was able to enjoy such luxuries and conveniences. His car phone rang displaying donna's number on the ID.



"Will,three weeks from today is the Judicial Convention. We are BOTH honorary speakers. I know you're on vacation that week. Do NOT plan one of your stupid shows that day."Damn. He hated speaking at these conventions.



"Ok big head. You just make sure your speech can match mine. Don't forget this fierce tongue and word game is what pulled you" he joked.



"Boy shut up!"



"Oh yeah. Don't wait up, I'm meeting Tom for drinks tonite", William lied.



She replied, "Make sure you have your key. I'm not getting up. Love you." They hung up.



After 30 years, William still loved Donna as much as he did the day he met her. He felt guilty for lying. But those feelings left just as quickly as they came.William dialed his friend. "Hey Terrance. We still on for tonite? Cool. Meet me at nine. Same spot."



Terrance and William had been friends for 4 years. He came in as a client and they became good friends immediately after. He knew he could never introduce Terrance to Donna, she would never understand the 25 year age difference. Plus Donna had a habit of "running checks" on new people they got close to. That was the last thing he needed.

He pulled into the Embassy Suites, parked around back, and walked into room 103 where Terrance waited. After 4 hours, he kissed Terrance goodnight and drove home blasting his radio. Sometimes he hated hearing his own thoughts.



He walked in, undressed, and climbed into bed with his wife."Goodnight Love". He kissed her softly on the cheek. He prayed. "Lord please help me to restore myself. I am lost and need to be the man you need me to be. I'm tired of lying. Please take control of my life. I am dying". He rolled over and cried himself to sleep.



The next morning Donna went in as usual. She was greeted by her Secretary. "Judge Daniels is out on an emergency. Remember the case he's trying about the Substitute teacher facing molestation charges? Well, the case needs to be sentenced today. He would Like to transfer it to you. All evidence is on your desk. Hearing is at 1 P.M."



Donna sat at her desk, grabbed a cup of coffee,put her glasses on, and opened the file. Terrance Greene, 35 year old math teacher...several counts of inappropriate touching and fondling a minor. Donna hated these cases. It reminded her of the horrific abuse her husband suffered at the hands of his OWN father. She continued reading the file. She reviewed the prosecution's case and opened an envelope that contained pictures that "established character". The outside of the envelope read: "Off the Record".

Inside she saw pictures of Terrance with several different men. She came across pictures of him naked on a beach with men of all ages and races. But the last two pictures almost stopped her heart from beating. She was holding a picture of Terrance Green completely nude engaging in sex with an unidentified man. Although his face was unrecognizable, the scar on his stomach was not. Nor was the wedding band on his left hand that rested effortlessly on the waist of Terrance.



Donna removed the pictures from the file, and placed them in her purse. She gathered the file, returned them to her secretary and instructed her to postpone the hearing until tomorrow.She ran out of the door, jumped in her car and drove home. Donna immediately logged onto the computer and typed the following letter:



"Dear William. Stop the masquerade before you lose everything. Your wife and family don't have to know. Please...do the right thing."



After printing the letter, Donna adressed the envelope to William's office and placed the pictures inside before sealing it. She hopped in her car, stopping at the post office before continuing to her destination.



Donna arrived at the address she gathered from the case file. Terrance opened the door after the first knock. "I'm William's wife. Also the judge trying your case. Tomorrow your sentencing is scheduled for 1 P.M. I will dismiss all charges and pay you $50,000.00 if you leave town immediately after and never speak word of any of this."She handed him the check and walked away. Never waiting for a response. She knew only a fool would turn down her offer.



That night she went home and cried uncontrollably for hours."God please work on my husband. Take away his hurts and pains. Make him the man I know he can be. Please Lord. Make him whole"

Two days later William received an envelope with no return address. He opened it and read the letter. His stomach turned as he looked at the pictures of him and Terrance. Fear like he'd never felt filled his soul. How had he become so pathetic? For years he engaged in unprotected sex with several men, never thinking of risking his beloved Donna.

He dropped to his knees and cried like never before. He thanked God for this envelope. It reminded him how close he had been to destroying the world of the woman he couldn't live without. He knew that he would never again engage in such horrendous acts. He prayed with everything in him that it wasn't too late.

He knew one thing.......He was done living the masquerade.

In Time (9/2/2010)

"Carl, please. Why do we have to spend every free minute discussing this? Please tell your mother I will call her this week sometime to finalize the seating arrangements. I mean, damn! Is it that big of a deal where the hell Ms. Clark's fat ass sits? I mean really!!"



Allison threw her jacket on the ottoman and stormed to her bedroom. She was beyond irritated, and wanted nothing more than an hour of peace. It seemed that was even too much to expect these days. The wedding was 11 months away and it seemed that's ALL Carl cared about. He was like a "Groomzilla!"



Before she could become too consumed with her regrets, she heard a light tap on her door. She knew it was Jaidyn.



"Come in sweetie."

"Are you ok Mommy?"

"Yes baby. Just a little tired. I could use a hug. You got one for me?"



Jaidyn was six years old, and undoubtedly one of the sweetest children Allison had ever laid eyes on. She was probably the sole reason she was still there, planning a wedding with a man that she wasn't completely in love with.Allison's dream of having her own children was short lived when she underwent an emergency hysterectomy at the age of 15, due to an attack on her reproductive system by an undiagnosed disease. She felt like half her soul was taken from her. She spent years trying to make up for the emptiness she felt knowing she could never bare her own child.She graduated college with her teaching credentials and landed a job soon after at Jaidyn's elementary school. She volunteered at the youth center on Saturdays and directed the youth choir on Sundays. Her entire life had quickly become dedicated to everyone else.



Allison reminisced about the simplicity of her life when Carl and her were JUST friends. The friendship started back in high school and has been unbreakable since. It was often the reason for several failed dating relationships, as it was difficult for some to accept the closeness they shared.



Nikki was the only person who accepted and appreciated their friendship. Allison met Nikki a few years after college graduation while working at the Eastside YMCA. They clicked instantly and Allison knew she would be perfect for Carl.



"Hi. I'm Allison. My best friend Carl would love you. Are you married?"



Nikki laughed. "Girl, please! I have yet to meet a man that can handle me!"



That night she introduced the two. Two years later she was Nikki's maid of honor in their wedding.

She remembered when everything changed. Nikki called her one night and asked if she could come by and talk. Allison prepared their favorite "girl talk treat" - vanilla bean ice cream with fruit cocktail topping.

Nikki arrived and sat down at the kitchen table.



"Talk to me chica." Allison joked.



"I'm pregnant." Before Allison could interrupt, Nikki placed one hand in the air. "Let me finish."



Allison listened in awe as Nikki explained in detail that she had sickle cell and was in danger of dying if she continued with the pregnancy.



"Allison, I want this baby so bad and I know God will keep me safe. However, if anything happens to me, please raise my baby as your own. Promise me you will watch over Carl. Please."



Allison knew that no matter what happened, she would keep her promise to her dear friend.That night the two held hands and cried for hours.Nine months later, Nikki gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, Jaidyn Marie. Nikki died during the delivery.

Immediately after the funeral, Carl and Allison agreed it would be best for Jaidyn if they all lived under the same roof. For four years they lived as roommates, in separate rooms. Eventually, Carl grew tired of their "situation without a title" and began placing expectations on Allison.

"Allison, its time to make things right. Jaidyn deserves a real family."

Carl pressured her for over a year until Allison finally gave in. She knew she didn't love Carl the way a woman should love the man she's marrying, but she settled for the idea. After all, she could never have her own child and what man would want only half a woman? She convinced herself it was the "right" thing to do. For Jaidyn.

The friendship quickly transitioned into a full blown relationship. Allison had always felt "responsible" for Carl; even as teenagers. He was a great guy, however he just wasn't aggressive enough for her. Allison was a go-getter and felt like nothing came without hard work and endurance. Carl would much rather wait for his blessings to fall in his lap.

Carl was an artist. He attended art shows worldwide and for the most part they were somewhat profitable. However, the money came in when the work did. Which meant his contributions to the household finances were sporadic. The more Allison did on her own, the more she began to resent him.

Allison began spending more and more time away from home volunteering at different centers. She found happiness in being around people. It made her forget about the reality of her own world.

She will never forget the Saturday she met Suave. He was the Youth Director at the Northside Y.He introduced himself to her and apologized for being so "forthright" in his approach.

"You must be the fine sista all these young knuckleheads keep talking about. Boy, they weren't lying." He smiled. Allison was immediately attracted to him.



For the next 10 months Allison and Suave spent every free moment they had together. She had never experienced a stronger love with anyone. She loved him as if she had raised him herself. The thought of her life without him brought her to tears at the mere mention of it. They shared a connection on every level. Spiritually, mentally, physically, and emotionally. He was without question, her soul mate.

Suave knew her situation in its entirety and understood its complexity. He also knew that he loved Allison from the deepest part of his soul and could never watch her marry another man. He had settled for this horrible situation because of his unconditional love for her, but he could no longer sacrifice his own heart.

Two weeks before Allison's wedding he told her that he would no longer try to hold her destiny in his palms. That night they held each other for hours knowing this was their goodbye. Her heart ached for Suave. She wanted nothing more than to leave everything behind and run to him; but she couldn't break her promise to Nikki. She couldn't lose Jaidyn. She couldn't hurt Carl.

The next ten days were unbearable. The pain she felt almost killed her. Allison knew she had lost Suave, but she also knew she couldn't marry Carl. After experiencing love like she had with Suave, Allison could never be the woman Carl deserved.

The night before her wedding she told Carl that she couldn't marry him. She watched as he cried and searched for answers. She was devastated and ashamed that she had let everyone she loved down. She wished she could take back the last year of her life and do things differently, but she couldn't. It was time for her to deal with the consequences of her actions.

Carl and Jaidyn moved out that night. For days following their departure, she cried until she couldn't cry anymore.



Two years had passed, and Allison still hadn't heard from Carl. She wanted many times to find them and bring them back, but she knew Carl deserved a woman who loved him in spite of. Not because of. Allison couldn't give him that.

Saturday morning, Allison came home from shopping, and found on her porch, a letter with a red bow attached. She opened it and found an invitation to Carl's wedding.

The note inside read:



"My Dearest Allison. Thank you for letting me go. I have found my soul mate. I want nothing more than for my best friend to be at our wedding. Jaidyn misses her Mommy. Please come. We love you."



She kissed the letter and cried. This time they were tears of joy.

She hopped in her car and drove to the Northside Y. Allison prayed that Suave was still there. She walked inside and her heart melted when she saw him.



"I'm ready to place my destiny back into your palms. If there's room."



"What took you so long," he asked.



He extended his open hand to her and one single tear rolled down his face.

Random Shit.... (9/28/2010)

It's been a minute....I know. But I decided that enough time has passed. I'm ready to put the blunt back in my mutha fuckin mouth, Hennessy in the cognac class, and get back to speaking on some real shit.

I am not your ordinary woman.....Or maybe I am. What I do know is that I speak on shit that most women wouldn't dare think about. When did getting what YOU want from a nigga become taboo?

There is nothing fragile, dainty, or lady-like about what goes on in MY bedroom. Therefore, my specific requests for sexual pleasures shouldn't have to fit that format either.

I mean, how often are we TOLD to give up the pussy on a consistent basis, with descriptive details of HOW to "give it up."?

So..... if I send you a text message telling you to come over in your sexy black boxer briefs, astroglide in one hand, and a whip in the other, be prepared to tie my ass up, and fuck me all night.....NO questions asked. Why does that make ME "too aggressive?" Maybe it really makes you a nigga that just ain't ready for a real bitch? Shall we continue?

WHY is it so wrong for us as women to be upfront and real about our needs? Isn't it every nigga's desire to have a bitch that knows what she wants, and isn't afraid to go after it? Or is it better to waste hours in the bedroom pretending to actually like the bullshit that's going on? Who the fuck has time for that? I for damn sure don't! Not when I could simply address my needs, enjoy a night of Pandora, a little Kush, and head so good you leave my pad with permanent knee marks on the side of your fresh fade.

Don't get me wrong. I like a man to be a MAN and to play his "role" accordingly. My "domineering nature" will NEVER go beyond the confines of our four walls. Except when we go out with friends, or to a business meeting; and I whisper in your ear how I'm going to take all of you in my mouth on the ride home. I might also tell you, right when you feel you're going to explode, that I need you to pull over and let me get on top of you.... just for a little bit. I'll also instruct you to pull into the garage, get out of the car, go inside, and with nothing said, pick me up, and fuck me, against the wall.

I can play submissive too. I am a jack of ALL trades. I believe in doing ALL things necessary to keep the juices flowing between my man and me. I am not above creating the "Sexy Domesticity" role either. Don't be surprised if you come home to a 5 course gourmet meal (dessert included), candles all around the house, sexy music playing, your plate ready as you walk through the door, and me feeding it to you adorned in my white lace lingerie with 5 inch red platform stilettos. After eating, I'll draw your bath water, bathe you, and let you have me ANY way you want me.

The biggest reason WE cheat, is because we are too afraid to express our needs as women. This creates a whole domino effect! We then just attribute it to "that nigga doesn't know what he's doing", or "he doesn't eat pussy". So what do we do? We find another nigga who DOES eat pussy, or who puts it down so good, we swear we made it to heaven. But did you ever stop to think that maybe at one point HE was that SAME nigga you have (at home)...that is until his bitch showed him the ropes? Hmmmm. I wonder.

Just A Random Thought (10/15/2010)

I have come to realize that there are many facets to a woman. Becoming a woman means learning how and when to use each one.

For example: Yes, it's beautiful to be confident and intelligent, but the ART is in how those attributes are displayed. If done wrongly, you can come off as egotistical and disdainful.

There's a certain swag that a woman who "knows what she knows" has. She has nothing to prove to anyone but herself. You can tell the difference between a young lady BECOMING a woman and a FULL-FLEDGED woman. One is running around imposing her opinions and ideals on anyone who will listen. The other is llustrating her beliefs with her actions.

Toni (from the sitcom Girlfriends) or Clair Huxtable?

WHICH ONE ARE YOU?

Evolution Pt. 3 (11/8/2010)

The voice on the other end was nothing like I anticipated. It was strong, and firm. Nothing like the young, weak woman Rico had painted such a vivid portrait of.

"Hello Tanya." Everything I had rehearsed over and over in my mind was gone. Here I was on the phone with the wife of my lover, and I had absolutely nothing to say.

"Well Lida, considering you called ME; I would think that you would have more to say than Hello. So, is there something I can help you with? Or let me guess. You were calling to tell me about the yearlong affair you've been having with MY husband? I already know. As a matter of fact, the pretty little Red dress he bought from your boutique about a year ago… It was my Valentine’s Day Gift. I actually wore it to his Company Christmas party. You have great taste I must say. I know about all the trips, your emails, the text messages. I would never imagine that such a professional, stable sistah like you could be so pathetic. However, I must say you are quite entertaining. Last weekend my friends and I enjoyed you and Rico's email correspondence over wine and sushi. PATHETIC! Especially when I read that you jeopardized your business to spend time with MY man! Lida, let me tell you something. You can believe whatever you choose to about ME. I know the game. I PRETEND to be a weak bitch to get what I want. You ARE a weak bitch, and where has it gotten you? You should be schooling me. Remember, you're the GROWN woman, and I’m the "little girl."

Well girls MAKE their man come over; a WOMAN makes her man WANT to come HOME. Girls check their man for not calling while a GROWN woman is too busy with her own shit, to realize he hadn't. I don't work. YOU have a business. How do you have so much time on your hands again? Rico isn't going anywhere Lida. He may not LOVE me the way he does you, but he takes care of me. That's all I need. So you can keep taking the scraps, while I stay fed. Oh, and by the way, you may want to see if you can cancel those plane tickets for the trip you're planning with Rico next weekend. Maxwell is in town and I’m feeling a breakdown coming on that day. Rico will HAVE to make it up to me by taking me to the concert. Seems like age doesn't really play a factor in being grown now does it?"

Before I could respond, she hung up.



A girl would have called back, foolish pride shooting from her tongue. But I was a Woman, and no matter how many circles I ran around Tanya, it was time I began acting like one.



I dialed Rico.



“Rico, I’m done with you. Until you get yourself together, and come to me right, I can no longer be a part of your life. You have allowed a simple-minded woman, to convince you of your worth. You have conformed to mediocrity, and you almost brought me there with you. I’m not a second string woman, and I refuse to accept that position any longer. There is no doubt that I love you. But we don’t want the same things. Take care of yourself Rico. Goodbye.”



I felt both anxious, yet relieved after hanging up. I knew I needed to start putting the pieces of my life back together, and the first step was to get rid of my affiliation with Rico. God was not going to continue blessing me if I didn’t walk away. No matter how much we loved each other.



My personal relationships, as well as my finances were in complete shambles. The decision to close my business on the most profitable day of the year was the beginning of the end for my boutique. I was lucky to have customers on the weekend, let alone during the week. I started opening only on weekends, in an effort to save money on utilities.



The next few months, I spent regaining the respect from my children, and repairing my friendship with Cindy. I hired a business broker, and placed Seksi on the market. I changed my phone number, and avoided frequenting the places that Rico visited. He stayed on my mind daily, and even after 3 months, I was still praying for the pain to be removed from my soul. “Lord, please restore my piece of mind. Give me joy and fulfillment in my spirit. I am empty Lord, and need you. Show me that I can exist without my love for Rico. Please guide my footsteps. I am ready to move my feet.”



I woke up Sunday morning, with a feeling of uneasiness and anxiety. I got dressed, and decided to head to church. This was the only place I could find the peace I needed. I turned the coffee maker off, and blew out the candle on the way to the front door. I couldn’t believe my eyes.



“Rico.”



I motioned him inside.



“I’ve tried to get over you Lida. I can’t. I can’t do life without you in it. Please, I’m begging you. Let me explain. I can explain everything. I’m ready to come to you, my love. I’m ready.”



Tears ran down my face as I listened to Rico sobbing as he professed his love for me. Every ounce of love that I had for this man, was still there, waiting to resurface. There was no way that I wanted to be without him, it was more clear to me now, than ever before.



He continued. “Lida, I need you in my life. But I have to rid myself of the strings I have with my wife. I need your help. She promised me that if I give her just enough money to live comfortably for the next six months, she will grant me the divorce and allow me to move on. I used my bonus to pay her credit card debt off. I just want her to be ok, so I can let her go. I need her blessing for my own piece of mind Lida. Please understand. Can you help me?”



“What is it that I can help you with Rico? I can’t do anything to help you. Why can’t she take care of herself? Until you realize that you are not responsible for her, I can have nothing to do with you. I’m sorry. Come to me when you are whole, and ready. I can’t go back down that same road again.”



“Lida, my business is suffering; my house is almost in foreclosure. I can’t live like this anymore. I just want to be happy. If you can loan me the money, I can pay Tanya and file the divorce. Then we can be together. I love you Lida. Don’t you love me?”



The next words I spoke slowly escaped my lips like warm molasses,



“No, Rico. I cannot help you. I’m sorry. As much as this hurts, I just can’t help you. Now please, leave my house, and don’t ever come by here again,”



I knew that I didn’t mean what I said to Rico. I didn’t have that kind of money to give Rico right now, but if I could, Lord knows I would have written him a check on the spot. I couldn’t let him know that I was that willing to take him back into my life.



Whoever said Happiness was priceless wasn’t in my shoes right now. I had a chance to take control of this situation, and I knew that God wanted Rico in my life. He wouldn’t have placed him here if he didn’t.



That night I prayed that God would send me the answer.



The next morning, it came.



“Hello, this is Lida.” I placed the phone on speaker while I finished washing my face.



It was my broker.



“Lida, Its Tom. We got an offer on the shop. They have agreed to the asking price, and 10% as a down payment. They have outstanding credit. The buyer has a passion for the business, and has patronized your shop for years. I don’t think we will get another offer like this. Lida honey, let’s take it! We can close escrow in 30 days!”



“Accept the offer. I’m ready.” I was ecstatic. This would allow me to use the money I had in my savings to give to Rico; it would only be 30 days before I received the proceeds from the sale. God had given me my answer, and I wasn’t hesitating to follow his advice.



I drove across town to Rico’s office. I pulled in the back, not wanting to run into the missus on such a joyous occasion. I walked around front and entered through the double doors. I didn’t see his car, and figured he was probably at lunch. I asked the secretary, if she could deliver the envelope to Rico upon his return. I handed her the manila file, and left.



3 weeks later Rico had a mover deliver his belongings to my place. We decided that since his house was upside down, and he had so much debt that it would be better for him to walk away from it and stay with me. We could work on rebuilding his business, while I used this time to go back to school. I would eventually open another shop, but for now, I needed to focus on my children, and my relationship with Rico.



I gave Rico $50,000 to give to Tanya, and was content with that decision. Any woman that could be “paid off” deserved every dime of that money. Tanya had 11 days to file her response for the divorce. I couldn’t wait until Rico received the paperwork back. I needed her out of our lives for good.



Exactly 28 days after accepting the offer for the sale of “Seksi”, I received confirmation that escrow was officially closed. It was a bittersweet moment for me. Tom advised me that the new buyer was grateful for the opportunity and wanted to invite me to the grand opening this coming Friday.



I couldn’t wait. I wanted to say goodbye to the shop, and give the new owner my blessings. I was thankful that the shop was going to someone with my same passion for the business. I wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing that it went to someone that didn’t cherish it the way I did.



Friday morning finally came. Rico agreed to accompany me to the shop; he knew how hard this was for me.



“Baby, this is the beginning of your new life. When God closes one door, he always opens another one. Give this new owner your blessings, and start rebuilding your life with me. I love you Lida, I am the happiest man alive with you.” He kissed me softly and led me to the car.



Any doubt that I had about Rico, vanished. I knew he loved me, and I loved him.



I quickly forgot the luxury I had in driving a mere 7 minutes to work each morning. How we take the smallest things for granted. I switched my focus to my new life, and refreshed my lip gloss while pulling in to the parking lot. I saw Cindy’s car. No matter what happened between us, she was still there for me and I loved her for that.



Before we could park, she was already running to the car. “Lida, I’ve already met the owner. Such a nice woman. She’s anxious to meet you. Come on!”



I couldn’t focus on Cindy’s words, as I looked at the new name displayed above the building.



“Karma”.

” What the hell?” I thought.



“Babe, you see that name? Crazy, huh? Oh well, let’s go in.” He chuckled as he grabbed my hand and led me inside.



There were chairs lined up inside, each one of them filled except four in the back. We took the seats. There was a podium positioned up front, with a bouquet of roses. An older man stood up and introduced the new owner.



A thick, chocolate sister with braids took the stage and looked directly at me. My heart dropped.



“Thank you all for coming out. My name is Tanya, and I am the proud new owner of Karma. The supporters clapped.



I looked at Rico, a paralyzed expression on his face.



“Did you know about this Rico? How could you!”



“I promise you, I didn’t know.”



She continued.



“I would like to give a special thanks to the man who made this all possible. Mr. Rico Gillard. And to Ms. Lida, my motivation. You have inspired me more than you know. Thank you for showing me how a “grown woman” handles her business. Good Luck to the both of you.”



Before she exited, a caramel colored man walked over and handed Rico an envelope containing the divorce papers. There was a note attached to the front.



“Rico, my love,

Enclosed you will find the divorce papers. I have agreed to everything you asked. I don’t want anything from you, as you have done more than enough. I removed my name from the house, and used the $50,000 you gave me as a down payment on a new home. Thank you for everything you have done. Good Luck to the both of you.”

Evolution Pt. 2 (10/28/2010)

“Mama, I’m late for school again! I’m going to get detention this time!”




Kali slammed my door, as she stormed by; obviously pissed.



I rolled over and looked on my dresser, searching for evidence of a cup, or something to explain the “hangover like” migraine headache I had. I quickly remembered that I hadn’t had a single drink last night; it was nothing but the emotional roller coaster that I found myself on since meeting Rico. I was a wreck. I was missing work, missing appointments, and the kids were growing tired of my carelessness in getting them to school on time.

I got out of bed, threw on some clothes, and gathered my keys.



“Kali, Denim, get in the car. I’m ready!”



The ride to school lacked in comparison to our usual morning trips. The regular singing and clapping that ordinarily filled the car was replaced with silence and gloom. I felt embarrassed that I had allowed my moods to be determined by another man. SOMEONE else’s man, at that.

I dropped Denim, my 8 year old son off, and continued on to take Kali to her destination. She was a 7th grader at the Middle School up the street.



As I pulled to the curb in front of her school, I looked at my daughter through the rearview.



“Kali, sweetheart, I’m sorry you’re late again. I know I haven’t been the easiest person to deal with lately, I promise I will make it up to you. Let’s have girl’s day this weekend!”

Before she got out she turned and looked me right in the eye, “Yeah Mom. Until Rico calls to see you? No thanks! I’ll pass on that Girls Night Out thing.” She slammed the door, and walked toward the entrance.



It wasn’t until I heard the loud honk behind me that I realized I had been sitting in the bus zone for nearly 45 minutes. Startled, I turned the car on, and drove home.



That night, Cindy, my assistant, and friend of 10 years called. "Lida, did you forget that I was the assistant and YOU owned the store? If I wanted to have my own shop, I would have opened one. I can't do this. Call me when you get your shit together and stop chasing this fool! I've done too much Lida for you to take advantage of me like this! I locked up the shop, and left the key under the front planter. Please have my final check ready by Friday. Bye Lida." She hung up.



I was devastated by Cindy's call, but was too depleted, emotionally to deal with the situation. Tonight, I was ending things with Rico. I could no longer sacrifice my feelings or sanity for this man regardless, of my love for him.

I gathered my composure, and picked up the phone to call him.



"Rico, I need you to come by. We need to talk, please!"



"Lida, baby it's Friday night. Tanya's here and I don't feel like arguing. I'll come by tomorrow around 1 ok? Love you babe. Gotta go!" He slammed the phone down.



Tomorrow was our Annual Summer Extravaganza at the shop, and I had completely forgotten about it. I hadn’t been to the shop in 10 days. It was no wonder Cindy was so upset. There was no way I could call her for help. I decided to cancel the event, and meet with Rico. After all, THIS took precedence.



I laid in bed remembering the day I met Cindy. She was the epitome of beauty and strength and I admired her from the moment I met her. We sat next to each other on a return flight from Las Vegas.



"Hey, Girl. I'm Cindy. Those shoes are bad as hell! A woman who can rock a shoe like that HAS to be the baddest bitch! Well, after me...that is!" She slapped me a high five right before ordering two Cognac on the rocks.

"If you don’t drink sista, you WILL today!" We talked the entire flight home.



I knew we were a perfect match! She had a Degree in Fashion from the top Design school in Italy. I tried to get her to become my partner when I opened the shop, but she refused. She said she wasn’t ready to settle down anytime soon, whether it was with a man, kids, or a business. I respected her for that.



I wanted to call and apologize but decided to wait until I handled things with Rico. I needed Cindy, just not right now. She despised Rico and I didn’t need that extra negativity in my ear. I was dealing with enough.



I woke up Saturday morning at 6 am. I wanted to call the invitees and advise them of my "family emergency", before they started answering the phone. I figured 6 were early enough to reach their voicemails.

I dialed Ms. Thompson, the chairperson of "Professional Black Women's Club", last. My heart pounded with each ring.



"Hello Lida, I was just preparing to call you sweetie." she said. My heart stopped.



"Yes Mrs. Thompson, um, I'm so sorry I had something, um, come up this morning. It’s a family emergency, I'm cancelling the event." I felt foolish, and could only imagine how I sounded.



"Oh, I see. And you couldn't give any advance notice baby? You know Lida; I have always loved you and admired your professionalism. You are a young, beautiful woman who started this business ALONE from the ground up. You’ve been successful for 6 years. Do you know how hard that is in today's economy? And for a black woman? Baby, I've been around a few blocks in my day, and this city is only so big sweetie. Nothing is worth losing what you've worked so hard for. You remember that. Let it be Lida. If it’s right, you'll get it back. I'll let the club know. This is going to be devastation to your business. I hope you know what you're doing baby. Take Care." She hung up.



I contemplated calling everyone back and telling them to forget the message, but it was too late. I didn’t have the energy to deal with anyone anyway. I was embarrassed, and confused at how I got here. When did I become so willing to gift wrap my dignity, pride and happiness and hand it over to someone else? I was going crazy. There was no other way to put it.



I poured myself a drink and sat on the couch for an hour until Rico arrived.



He used his key to come in.



"Hey Boo! See, I'm on time! Bring your sexy ass here and hug your man." He smiled.



"My MAN!” I screamed. "Are you kidding me? Rico, I am tired of this shit! You've been telling me for a year that you're leaving HER! I am losing my mind behind all of this. I can't eat half the time; I barely talk to the kids. Drinking has become my new hobby! I've even started smoking weed here and there. Today, I cancelled my event at the shop to accommodate YOU AGAIN!!! Why the hell are you putting me through this? How the hell can you be so careless with my heart if you love me? Do you love me Rico?"



What the hell was I doing? Why was I begging for this man’s attention again?



Rico remained calm as he spoke, even though I was hysterical.



"Yes Lida, you are my everything, I love you with my entire heart. I want to be with you, I do. But right now, I need to be with Tanya. She needs me. She's sick. She's a weak woman Lida. You're strong. You don't need me like she does. It doesn’t matter what hand you’re dealt, you can play it. SHE can't. I can’t leave her the way she is right now. When the time is right, I will. Baby they have placed a lien on my home, my business is only bringing in half of what it used to. You don’t want me like this right now. I'm not right."



Before I knew it, I went to a place I promised myself I would never go.

"Well nigga maybe if you had a BITCH who knew how to be a WOMAN and handle her damn responsibilities, you wouldn’t be in this boat. But no! You want a weak bitch. A bitch that has caused you to lose everything!"

I was sobbing as I continued. "Why don't you want me Rico?"



He looked at me as he walked toward the door. "Lida, this is too much. I will not be the cause of you losing everything. I love you too much for that. Get yourself together, please. I won’t call you anymore. And please, don’t call me. I want you to know that this is for your own good. Goodbye."

He closed the door.



My heart felt as though it was ripped from my chest. I felt numb, but before I could stop myself I had already dialed Tanya's number.



"Hello Lida. I figured it was just a matter of time before you called me."



To Be Continued......................................

Is It REALLY Different Loving A Black Man (11/10/2010)

Let me first start by saying that I am NOT a relationship expert, or a professional in the love field. All I can do is speak on MY opinions, and MY experience. Now with that said........................



HELL YES!! The BIGGEST misconception we have is that loving a man is the same NO MATTER WHAT RACE he is. WRONG!

Now....I know this is going to be highly controversial for some of you....But the proof is in the pudding...or in history. Whichever YOU prefer.

There have been numerous books.....articles, and blogs written about this very topic, however I don't feel that they speak from a true perspective. Now, I'm not trying to make a damn guide for how to make a "sucka who ain't shit", into a "good man". It's about how to love a real black man...NOT a boy.

This is for those WOMEN, who seriously have a good man, and want to know HOW to love that man. Many of you will argue that loving a black man shouldn’t be any different than loving a man of a different race...BOTTOM LINE....IT IS!



If you are already offended.....Stop reading NOW.



We all know that black men are among the most degraded, browbeaten group of people in the world. During the slave era, men were emasculated in front of groups of slaves in an attempt to instill fear in those groups. Do you not remember that black men were once hunted for sport and strung from trees?

Now this, I'm sure is the part where some of you are saying, "SO! My MAN wasn't a slave. What does this have to do with NOW?"

It is imperative that we realize that our history has a psychological effect on our men. Brainwashing has happened to our men from early on. Maybe not every man, but several of them. Men have been programmed to think that certain characteristics make a "good man." Most of the time those characteristics are not being adhered to today. There is a way to get to the core of all of this, and experience the true joy of loving a black man....minus all the "extras".

Be a good woman to him...

I believe that these next four things are CRITICAL in truly loving your man:



1) Be his NUMBER ONE FAN! Not just when he's on top...but ALL THE TIME. When shit is going good....he'll get support from everybody and their mama. You may be his ONLY fan when things aren’t so good. (And trust me, it happens).

Now let me clear this up....Don't be stupid and support everything he does. You MUST hold him accountable for his actions. BOTH his successes AND his failures. If you are truly loving this man.... (ooooh) You know his dreams, talents, and probably know his potential BETTER than he himself does. Give him CONSTRUCTIVE criticism to reach his goals... (Don't belittle him, or knock him).Black men base much of their self-esteem on how well they perform in life. But their deeper self often hides their motivations, self-image and fears in a private place that they can’t or won't share with their partners.



2) ALLOW THAT MAN TO BE A MAN. (Now let me talk specifically to the sistah's on this one) LET HIM BE A MAN. Now....that does NOT mean...put up with all of his BULLSHIT. Just because you LET him have an ego, and pride, doesn’t mean you have to put YOUR ego to the side.

IT TAKES JUST AS MUCH STRENGTH TO FOLLOW AS IT DOES TO LEAD. (Do I need to repeat that?)

Let me make this clear...for those of you who like to take shit LITERALLY. This does NOT mean trailing behind him and forgetting who YOU are. It means holding his hand, confident in his lead, but ready to take on the universe when needed...side by side.



3) Learn to TRUST him until you SEE SOMETHING DIFFERENT. I'll never forget an article I once read entitled "If you trust a black man...you ought to be ashamed!" It was one of the most appalling articles I have EVER read. And we wonder why the stereotype exists about our men. It is our DUTY as HIS WOMAN to give to him what he DOESN'T get outside in the world. Often times it is TRUST.

Don’t make him pay for the hurt others have caused you. It is IMPOSSIBLE to love another human being without trusting him for something. Believe me, I know. If you have loved deeply, you have trusted deeply. With this, you have hurt deeply as well. Take a look at yourself. Are you jealous, or suspicious? Is it really the man NOW that you don’t trust? Hold him accountable for how HE is, not how someone else WAS.



4) Don’t be afraid to touch him. Even if you NEVER hear them say so, men cherish your touch. I’m not speaking of a sexual touch, but a gentle, caressing touch. Touching sends so many powerful messages to our man. It reassures, calms, sooths, encourages, and grants forgiveness without saying a single word. It lets him know that you are truly present with him. Your touch validates him, and in an instant, reaffirms the fact that he is precious in your world. Nothing that costs so little, has every yielded so much.



GOOD LOVE, and a GOOD MAN is always a beautiful thing…no matter what color man he is. But as women, we are so quick to judge our black man before we UNDERSTAND our black man. A good man is a better man with a good woman on his side. Period!!



It's not all about just loving' on this man, and expecting everything to be perfect! We have to take responsibility for how our brothas love and treat us. WE enable their bad, disrespectful behaviors. We don’t demand honesty and unconditional love. We ACCEPT, ALLOW, and FORGIVE too soon, all the while praying and hoping that he will become that man of our dreams, thus turning a blind eye to the man in our reality.

Get rid of the fear…fear of being alone, abandoned, talked about or hurt. We are wonderfully made, with power, intelligence, and strength that is UNSURPASSED.



Love your man with all of your being, and accept nothing less in return. Then, you can reap the true reward of loving a GOOD BLACK MAN.

Detox

12/30/2010
With the new year quickly approaching, its only appropriate that I begin removing ALL toxins and dispose of them with 2010. This cleanse is not one that will have me rushing to the nearest GNC to purchase the 7 Day Complete Body Cleanse or flushing my insides with endless amounts of water to achieve a "golden glow." The things i'll be purging are the toxic relationships I've accumulated; the impurities I've collected from infectious friendships, fake-Ass romances, and anything else that has poisoned my sanity.

Let's start with the friendships that have been nothing more than me being an accomplice to someone's counterfeit life. I mean, how am I benefiting from playing a role in the next bitch's illusion? Why is it that stroking YOUR ego is the glue that holds this camaraderie together? Since when did the simplicity of SISTERHOOD become replaced with fakeness and competition? I need a "sister-friend" that I don't have to watch around my man, worry about sabotaging my reputation, or one where I have to downplay MY SEXY on girls' night out, just to ensure SHE has a good time. Enough of that bullshit! I need this type of friendship the same way I need razor bumps on my freshly shaven "Va-jay-jay, hours before the date I've spent ALL WEEK preparing for! Where's the witch hazel when you need it!?!?

And, where do I begin with the fake-Ass romances? I've spent more time RAISING boys into men, racking up expenses that have lasted longer than the ACTUAL relationship, and analyzing random text messages sent to my phone "in error." All for some Dick? NEGATIVE! Unless, Mr. Dick's owner has a bank account with overdraft protection, a car that he's NOT hiding from the repo-man,and an employer with a Legitimate federal tax ID number! Most importantly, Mr. Dick can NOT have a woman with a "title"...."wife" or "girlfriend"....Just WON'T DO.

In closing......I will be enjoying my 2011 with a New "vegan-style diet" that is sure to filter out ALL impurities. All fake Ass people...NEED NOT APPLY!



Happy New Year - Mimi

Thursday, January 13, 2011

The Final Diagnosis

***In response to Alfred Parker's version of James' response, located in the comments of 'Diagnosis'*****



Dear James,

Throughout our relatoinship, I've always prided myself in taking the high road. Your ignorance makes me wanna revert back to the days of 75th and Hoover,Turkish Chains, and Bamboo Earrings. You know? The days when I was kickin' ass and asking questions later? But I'm too grown for that now. I've decided to maintain my sexy and let this pen do the ass whoopin' instead.

Let me first commend you on your ability to remain consistent. It is apparent that the state of oblivion you lived in when I met you, hasn't changed based on your delusional response to my letter. I take full responsibility for not paying attention to the signs. Although your life may not have been worth a "bareback, bottoms up, bang out," it was the epitome of a BROKEBACK, bottoms up, bang out. You should have stayed off of that mountain. I didn't know to take Peter(our neighborhood Avon sales rep) literal when he got mad and said he was going to rip you a new ass hole. Now it makes perfect sense how he so easily convinced you to put down the fishing pole and instead spend your spare time selling lipsticks and blush. But I've never been one to knock someone's hustle, no matter what it is.

That's neither here nor there. What is important, is that I clear up the confusion about our recent doctor's visit that you mentioned. I admit, I had one too many deviled eggs and too many pieces of fried fish. And yes, it resulted in my positive high cholesterol screening. It doesn't surprise me that you have continued to have your cholesterol checked as often as you do. You always have been obsessed with your eating habits. BRAVO on your negative results.

However that's not the appointment I'm referring to. If you recall, I was writing the letter during my ride ALONE on the subway. If you were with me, there would be no need to write you. I won't waste anymore time convincing you of something you already know. That would be foolish.

The same amount of energy you're spending lying to yourself, should be spent accepting your diagnosis. I will admit I was wrong in the SOURCE of infection. Turns out, the pipe was the reason behind Regina's skeletal appearance. Peter will, undoubtedly be the cause of ours.

Violet

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Diagnosis

Dear James,
As I take this subway ride home, I can't help but to reminisce about the days when my eyes used to smile. It's funny how quickly the time has passed. It seems like just yesterday, we were exchanging numbers at the Heather Hadley/Anthony Hamilton concert. I had on a Baby Tee that read: Music Is a Girl's Best Friend and my favorite pair of bootcut 7 jeans. You approached me, asking if you could be my new best friend. Now, here I am, five years later, writing you this letter.
It's funny how 60 minutes can change a lifetime. You were my addiction. I neglected reality. That is until we were reacquainted today at my 1:00 appointment.
I consumed the news like a SweetTart. Isn't it crazy how the same information that restores your peace of mind, can destroy it at the same time? For the past two years, I've been struggling to put to together the broken pieces of our relationship; all the while blaming myself for the unexplained distance, your sudden lack of interest in sex, and your constant emotional outbursts.
I still remember the frightened expression you wore when we ran into Regina (your ex-girlfriend from 6 years ago) at a local charity event. I instantly erased my insecurities and replaced them with admiration for your compassion. Her corpse-like appearance had to be the reason for her number all of a sudden showing up on your call log. I convinced myself you were just being a friend.
It seems that the precautionary measures you took (i.e. abstaining from alcohol AND sex, obsessing over OUR diet, and frequent visits for your "flu-like symptoms" ) weren't enough to avoid the inevitable. Your honesty in the beginning, could have been a cure all.Instead, I'm left with a 4x6 diagnosis card that reads: POSITIVE/NO CURE.
Yours Truly,
Violet