Thursday, January 25, 2007

fuckery

Me and the Wife are so funny...

Wife: american idol WILL be the death of me
La: OHMIGOD!!! LMAOOOOOOOOOOO
La: LOL
La: LOL
La: LOL
La: LOL
La: LOL
La: LOL
Wife: have you ever heard a person sing lady marmalade while sounding like they're both crying and having an orgasm?
La: I swear, a lil bit of pee came out, lol
Wife: lol lmao!
Wife: and yeah, i signed on to aim just to tell you that cuz my phone was too far away
La: Oh good lord. I'm gonna hurt myself
Wife: lol
La: Is that... BIG BIRD?
Wife: heee
La: I'm crying. I have mascara in my mouth, lol
Wife: hahaha. The producers have done their job well
La: God bless them, every one
Wife: seriously. The looks they capture are just... amazing
La: Lmao! Wheeeeeere are these people's friends?!?!
Wife: friends? enemies? same diff
La: I need to go change my panties
La: And not in the good way
Wife: lol!
Wife: loser
La: Lmao
La: This is fantastically awful
Wife: it so is
Wife: i've never seen anything quite so tragic... yet, strangely beautiful
La: No one has. It's like yeats
La: Or shakespeare
La: Or porn!
Wife: or a porny-shakespeare-yeats play performed off off off broadway!
La: Lmao! Off off off as in...
La: Deleware?
Wife: or... rhode island
La: Or...
La: Sri lanka
Wife: or... hades
La: Oooooh Hades is so fetch!
Wife: lol, it IS
La: Its soooo the brazil of 07
La: I'm soooo putting this convo on my blog
Wife: it's needed. We've been slacking on the aim archives
La: We have. It's about time the blogosphere be privy to our ramblings
Wife: i totally agree. We've been denying them brilliance... and laugh-pee
La: AND our humility. And that's just wrong
Wife: that too! You're so wise.
La: You know what?
La: I AM
Wife: that's my humble wife
La: *popping her collar* I do what I can
Wife: lmao
La: We're great
Wife: i LOVE us!
La: Me too. But like, who doesn't?
Wife: haters. but they're just jealous!
La: Really, they should go outside and kill themselves
Wife: ha!
La: Lol
La: So how goes the move?
Wife: i've moved
Wife: i have bills
Wife: it sucks
La: Lmao! I feel your pain. Everytime I write my check for my car note every month, a little part of me dies, lol
Wife: my god, yes. And just wait until you pay for heat... it's like COME ON! Heat should be free!
La: Heat SHOULD be free
Wife: the price you pay for freedom
La: Indeed. The crazy part is I'm supposed to be saving money but I'm looking for apts in atl
Wife: when are you trying to relocate?
La: March
Wife: well, you have time to save
Wife: wait, it's february
La: Lol
Wife: lol
Wife: um...
La: Oh no I have money saved... I meant I'm supposed to be saving to move to la. Which will be harder once I pay rent
Wife: ohhhh yes! It will be. Saving is damn near impossible with rent
Wife: what about pseudo? don't you want to shack up?? lol
La: Um.. Yeah suire
Wife: lol
La: About as much as I want my uterus torn outta my ass w/forceps
Wife: um, EWWW. THANK YOU FOR THAT.
La: Lol! Anytime
La: To be honest I've fantasized about it before... But he's in DC
La: And...
La: He's a boy, lol
Wife: "hes" usually are boys
Wife: but yeah. I get it
La: And if anything ever happened, I don't wanna do the whole, someones gotta move and divide the stuff
La: Though I guess logically its been fairly good for 2 yrs...
La: But, whatever
La: No
La: Lol
Wife: gotcha
Wife: no
Wife: you could always come shack up with me!
Wife: in my miniscule 1-bedroom
La: I considered that too
GA PEACH4584: Except for that, no.
Wife: lol aw
La: I tried convincing Joy but notsomuch
La: And in general I don't like other people so...
Wife: lol! That too. Damn people
La: Hissss!
Wife: ok... i meant to ask you... have you heard of Amy Winehouse? cause i've been listening to her all day and i kept thinking of you
La: Nu uh. Do I need to?
Wife: YES. Unequivocally, yes
Wife: she's so awesome. Jazzy bluesy with lots of songs about drinking and weed and sex
Wife: and she's british
La: Hell yes!
Wife: lol
Wife: awesome... she has a song called "rehab". The hook: "they tried to make me to go to rehab, but i said no, no, no"
La: Lmao!!!
La: Well, there u have it
Wife: that pretty much sums up the album
Wife: except for the part where she asks her softie of a boyfriend if he's gay
La: Lmaooooooooooooooooooo!!!
La: I NEEEEEEEEED this album
Wife: lol I know! You do! I KEPT thinking about you the whole time
La: You know how my bfs keep turning out being gay
Wife: lol
Wife: ooh and she says the f-word
La: Yes! That's like, my favorite fuckin word!
La: You know, next to bitchshitmutherfuckergoddamn
Wife: lol! I know! I believe she even says "fuckery"
La: Lmao! That shall be the title of our blog
Wife: hell yeah
Wife: ok, it's bedtime
La: Ok dear. Night!
Wife: night wife!

Monday, January 22, 2007

Maybe It's All the Rain...?

I think I might be depressed. I didn't wanna watch football today. Me! Not wanna watch football! That's like a cat wanting to go swimming or a dog not licking it's own balls. It just ain't natural.

I came home from work, already disgruntle because not only did I miss the Saints game, but I received a myriad of taunting messages from people who knew that I was A) at work and unable to watch the game and B) rooting for New Orleans. When I got home the Patriots were playing. And all I wanted to do was sleep. Tom Brady was on my TV and all I could think about was burying myself underneath my covers. A Manning/Brady match up is the stuff legends are made of and all I wanted to do was curl up with my Winnie the Pooh and sleep until I made a La sized dent in my mattress.

So I did. I missed the games that put 2 African American coaches in the Superbowl for the 1st time ever. For the first time in the history of the 2nd greatest sport ever played (basketball being the 1st of course), at the end of the Superbowl, a black man will have a ring. I missed the start of this moment. Why? Because I was huddling.

Sigh. I feel so blah.

Saturday, January 20, 2007

Wifey Material

I hear it all the time. At least once a week. "La, why are you single? You're such wifey material." I get it so often that hearing the phrase is like nails on a chalkboard. Truthfully, I used to think so. I used to think whoever ended up with me would be a lucky man. Even the rare times I allowed myself to endulge the thought of settling down with a notso insignificant other, I always thought I would could really live up to the "wifey material" hype.

But maybe not.

Maybe I'm just not that chick.

Maybe I'm just not the type of girl that ends up with someone. Maybe I'm just not that chick can mold her personality to fit into the confines of a relationship. Maybe I just expect too much. I always thought I was a cynic, but maybe I'm a hopless romantic. Maybe I've so built up in my mind my expectations of what I want or need to be happy, that it just won't come to fruition.

I just don't think I'm that chick.

I keep hearing I'm wifey material, but I don't think that's it. I think maybe what people see in me is an unattainable quality, a challenge to overcome, the quest to be The One that settles me down. Except, I don't think that's gonna happen. Not for me.

I'm not that chick.





"Maybe the problem wasn't that I couldn't break Big. Maybe the problem was, he couldn't break me. Maybe some women aren't meant to be tamed. Maybe, we just need to run free until we find someone just as wild to run with."

- Carrie "Sex and the City"

Wednesday, January 17, 2007

Simon Cowell is My American Idol

"Well now you can dedicate your life to your other talents. The good news is that today you discovered singing will NOT be it."

This came outta Simon's mouth exactly 3.78 minutes into the newest season and I fell over onto the floor laughing. Which is where I stayed for the rest of the show.

Are these fuckin people serious? Bless God for Simon Cowell.

Bless. Him.

I haven't watched AI since Fantasia won, but now I remember why freshman year at Howard the entire campus would be gathered around a TV to howl in laughter at these idiots with no friends.

Really. Cuz if my singing voice sounded like a bag of cats being slung at a wall, my friends wouldn't let me go on national TV.

Which number to press to vote for Simon?

Sunday, January 14, 2007

That is All.

I wanna go on a date dammit! Like a real, honest to goodness, true to life, it-took- me-all-day-to-leave-the-house-looking-like-this-but-dammit-if-I-don't-look-good-as-a-muthafucka date. Youknowhatimsayin?

Today at work we discovered two important things about modern day relationships. #1: Psuedo boyfriends are is style. (I'm such a fuckin' trendsetter.) (Is my potty mouth getting worse?) (Well what can ya do? I say fuck it.) And #2, NOBODY DATES ANYMORE.

When I first got to HU, I remember freshman year having a huge roundtable discussion in The Cafe about how people don't date anymore and that the fishbowl life that was campus existence only made it worse. At the time I didn't buy it but now I'm beginninng to wonder...

Look at the evidence...

The last time I went on a date was with Mr. Wonderful. LAST DECEMBER. That's over year ago! Craziness. Before that, it was my Perfect Date that me and Almost Fiance went on waaaay before we ever made it official and then almost immediately hit the skids, wrapped ourselves around a tree, stayed in the vehicle as it burst into flame only to stagger out and die in the middle of the street.

WOW. That was ALOT. Lol!

Anyway...

Before that it was First Love back in friggin' high school which was AT LEAST 37 years ago (it seems.) (What?!?! Well, it does!!!)

Maybe they had it right way back at HU. Maybe people DON'T date anymore. Maybe we've all foregone the behavior in favor of random hookups and one night stands. Maybe I missed last call and the lights have long since been off.

I dunno. I just wanna go on a date. I wanna get all cute and go out and be all smiley and giggly and flirty and all "yeah I'm out with him" and such. Idealistic of me, yes. But so necessary for me to get this outta my system so I can get back to my Will and Grace dvds and my comfy Gap body pajamas, lol.

That is all.

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

Things I Believe as an Atlanta Native

1. There should be a waffle house on every corner and the employees there should be as ghetto and/or country as possible.

2. 285 is the most fantastic feat of engineering known to man.

3. The word shawty can be used to convey any emotion.

4. A "nice car" does not have to be a car of the most recent year, but rather a Chevy with the most recent rims and stereo on/in it.

5. You do not go to the club to be cute. You go to the club to sweat your hair out. Period.

6. New Air Forces make just about any outfit look better.

7. Youknowhaimean is the perfect punctuation to any sentence.

8. Any trash talk about the Falcons can face consequences up to and including corporal punishment. Or death. As determined by law.

9. It is perfectly acceptable to not use your public transportation sys for anything other than sporting events.

10. Snap music is hip hop. DEAL WITH IT

11. The dances we do are random. And no, you can't do it like us. Please stop trying.

12. Georgia peaches taste better than any other ones on Earth. The fruit ain't bad either ;-)

Friday, January 5, 2007

One More

What if I was the type of person that everything came easily to?






And don't tell me if it wasn't difficult I wouldn't appreciate it cuz I don't wanna talk to you.

Thursday, January 4, 2007

Good Head

Me: I think what really defines the distinction between relationships is the thing you found in the new relationship that you didn't get in the old. Or even better, something you didn't even know you liked til the new guy starts doin' it. And then you go, you know, like, hey! This rocks!
Coworker: I agree. That happened with me and (insert name here). So what"s something Psuedo does that nobody else did that just does it for you?
Me: (thinking for a very long time) He gives good head.

Yeah, after that all my co-workers looked at me crazy. But that's not exactly what I meant. Maybe I should have actually said, he gives good hair. That's what I meant, lol. It's the first thing that popped into my mind, lol. That damn Mexican always goes straight for my hair. No matter what we're doing, or how we're doing it (heh heh) his damn hands are always in my hair. And dammit if I don't love it! Lol I've always had a thing about people playing in my hair. But he's the only person who has quite literally put me to sleep running his fingers through my hair, massaging my scalp. When I'm stressed, that's how he gets me to mellow out. By the same token, the same touch can let me know it's time to light a candle and get the slow jams going, lol. Maybe it's his hands. Or maybe it's just him. But the boy gives good hair, lmao.

My hair is so intimate to me. First of all, because I take such good care of it. Second of all because my hair is beautiful, lol. Ok actually, scratch that. Make that first of all and change beautiful to gorgeous, lol. No matter the length, color, or style, my hair is always on point. Even my ponytails are laid, lmao. But really, I think all the effort I put into my hair is really just so it's play inable. I want soft, touchable hair. Why? Cuz then it gets played in. And then I get put to sleep.

One way or another *wink*

The Guy not Chosen

I often ponder the big decisions I've made and wonder how my life would be different. What if I'd never gone to Howard? Who would I be? Who would I know? How would my life be different? What if I didn't grow up in Atlanta? What if I grew up in, say, Cali? Would the changes be minimal? Or would I be 180 degrees completely and totally away from who I am now?

Then I read this short story today by Jennifer Wiener, who is quickly shaping up to be one of my favorite chick lit authors. It was called "The Guy not Taken" or something like that. In it, the main character, though happily married and years over him, stumbles across a wedding announcement of an ex-boyfriend. She allows herself to envision what life would be like had she been the one marrying him rather than ending up in the life she's living.

And it got me to thinking... what if I had the guy not taken? What if I'd stayed in Atl after high school with my first love? Would I no longer have an empty ring finger to show people when they lift my left hand expecting us to be married when I return home and face inevitable questions about us? Would we have worked out? What about the Will to my Grace? What if we hadn't found a common shared interest in handsome men? How would life have worked out for us? For our friends? And Almost Fiance? What if I really HAD packed up my whole life and moved it to Alaska, or wherever he was gonna spend that 3 year block stationed? Would we still be together? Would I be barefoot and pregnant by now? Or would I have wound up resenting him like I always feared I would? What if I'd asked Mr. Wonderful to stay in DC? Or better yet, moved to Chicago with him? What if I'd met him before me and Almost Fiance made such a mess of things? Would I be different? And Mr. Vague? What if I could finally get him to open up? What if his schedule wasn't always so jam packed? What if he had room for me in his life? Would we wind up together? What if I'd given in to all the things Babe was willing to do for our relationship? Would it have worked? Would going against my gut have turned out fruitful for me? What if just ONE of all these relationships had worked out? Would I be so distrustful? Would I still be so sour on the idea of love and relationships? Would I still feel so insecure and be able to trust more people? Would I be totally different? Would Pseudo not be putting up with all of the crazy craziness he puts up with now? Would he even like me? Would he even KNOW me?

What if? What if I'd gone left instead of right? What if I'd followed my heart instead of my head? And vice versa? What if I'd done wrong instead of right? What if I'd spoken instead of keeping quiet? What if I'd stayed rather than moved on?

What do you do with the what ifs?

And then I realized, fuck it. I don't care, lol. It all happened the way it was supposed to. And some of them niggas I'm so happy to be rid of I don't even know whatthefucktodowitmygoddamnself, lol. Mean, maybe, yes, but dammit, looking back on it all just... why?

Seriously. Why?

That's my new years resolution. Nothing else. Be done with the what ifs. No more trying to predict the future. I dunno what could have happened. I dunno what would have happened. And I don't care.

Real talk, I just want my man to come home and play in my hair*.









*See post above.