Month: July 2005

In Her Defense

I have been all over the internet, looking behind cardboard boxes, under shelves and in corners trying to read everything I could about this chick Karinne Steffans AKA Superhead. And yes, I saw the porno too. Damn girl! ~raising eyebrow~ I thought I was good, but damnnnn!

I promise you that I WILL buy the book just to support her just because so many people out there are hating something fierce. What does it benefit you to call someone a hoe? Does it make you feel superior or better about your own life? Are you able to rationalize that yes, you may have slept with 30 men, but she’s had wayyy more men so you’re a saint- yeah right.

I do not judge this chick charshly. In my opinion she is making money off of her story. And my interest is merely for entertainment purposes. I have never had the honor (?) of meeting any celebrities but their lifestyles has always intrigued me. So this book will be an intimate peek into their world and I greatly appreciate it. It’s not a guidebook for living. It’s not a Bible. It’s the woman’s story- point blank. And everyone who has a blog tells their story and don’t get bashed for it.

The part that hurt me the most was listening to this radio interview on some radio station. Karinne was there to promote her book when all of a sudden the host asks her about her Baby Daddy and she begins to tell her story. She says he does not pay child support and she hasn’t even spoken to him in years. As soon as she says this, the host of the show- (And what kind of bootleg show was this anyway?) says: (paraphrasing) Well, we have your son’s father on the phone right now with his wife, Ma Barker.

I could have died right then and there. I could feel my heart beating fast and quick. Oh shit, here it comes, the confrontation.

Immediately her Baby Daddy’s WIFE starts in on her, bashing her and calling her a liar and trying to discredit her. I’m thinking, “BITCH WHO ASKED YOU?”

I’m serious. How can you as a WOMAN sit by with your man while he does not take care of his kids? I don’t care what kind of a hoe his Baby Mama is! He should be helping to support his child. I don’t care how many lies she has told! He should be helping to support his child. I don’t care how many dicks she has sucked! He should be helping to support his child. If you do this you are ALLOWING him to screw over another woman who could BE YOU one day. But you think it’ll never happen to you, huh? Honey, if it did, you probably would crumble.

Ma Barker and her ugly Baby Daddy tap dance all around this issue. Instead they wanna put other celebrities on front street about sleeping with her. What does that have to do with the fact that YOUR MAN DON’T TAKE CARE OF HIS SON?! Answer the question! Do you pay your child support? HELL NO! The rest of that shit is irrelevant. Point blank.

Then this chick, Ma Barker actually admits to recording conversations with Karinne during their relationship. Psycho maybe? Who records people’s phone conversations? Slimy ass chicks!

They play one of the recordings and it is Karinne leaving a message thanking her Baby Daddy for some clothes or something he sent for the boy. Oooohhhh! Congralulations, you bought him a sweat suit. Whoop-de -doo! Did you know he can ride a bike? Did you see the scrape he got last week while trying? NO! All you did was buy a sweat suit and parade around like a playa with your new hoe! You are NOT to be admired.

I have a VERY sensitive spot for bashing Baby Mama’s. I hate that shit. Seriously. People look down on you because you have kids and you’re raising them by yourself. No one looks down on the father who left you in that situation. No, he gets to run around town, picking up chicks, living grand and trying to convince himself and ANYONE who will listen that you are a horrible person so that he won’t feel so bad about walking away from his responsibility, while you struggle to buy groceries and find gas money. Yeah, they wanna berate you because you can’t handle it by yourself financially but no one is willing to help. People always wanna talk shit but no one wants to lend a helping hand.

So what? This chick used to be a hoe. So what? She’s not anymore. She is exploiting herself by telling her story. Don’t get mad because you are a part of that story.

I HATE when people bash Baby Mama’s! I remember once my sorority sister sat in front of me telling me about some guy she was dating that had a son that wasn’t even a year old. I look at her like, “Where’s this kid’s mother?” She replies, “Oh, his crazy Baby Mama? She around here somewhere.”

I could feel the heat rise up in my chest. I had to calm myself down before I spoke and I let her no with NO RESERVATION that she better not say that shit around me anymore.

Oh, she’s a CRAZY BABY MAMA because he told you that?!! Oh guess what? Niccas lie! And you dumb for believing his ass!

Look man, a certain amount of respect is due to every human being. But a special amount of respect is due to women and mothers, especially BLACK SINGLE MOTHERS. Don’t you think we have enough to bear, what with our men taking their frustration for the world out on us? Yet you continually beat us down. We beat each other down. We bring each other down. We hate ourselves. We are out here on our own, just figuring shit out because a black man doesn’t know how to be a man or a father. All he knows how to do is spread his seed and walk away. We’re left to do the rest. And you bash us for mistakes. Who made you God?

I never understood why people are so quick to put you down without ever considering giving you some guidance. That’s why I’m not into all this criticism and bashing. Why even acknowledge a problem if you are not going to work to fix it? Complaining is for bitches who ain’t got shit else to do! Be proactive. If you recognize a need, then do your best to fill it. Have a heart.

But none of what I said matters really.

You will still sit back and smirk and call her a hoe. You will feel better about your sex life cuz at least you ain’t as nasty as HER.

What do you see when you see her? A bitch ass dirty ass hoe?

Naw, I see:

A Black woman.

A single Mom.

A survivor.

A writer.

Someone who could easily be me.

Cuz I was givin it up to men for free, I never got paid a dime. Does that make me a better woman? Does that make YOU a better woman?

Karinne. Move on. Improve your life. Live nicely.

There is life after this.

You are young, beautiful and talented. Your past is just that, your past. I am glad that you shared your story and there ARE women who benefit from hearing it. I know I did. Your story showed me that no matter what method you try to be successful, there are always gonna be haters. It showed me that something good can come out of something bad.

You turned your misfortune into a fortune.

And I ain’t mad at ya.

No one has all the answers.

We’re all trying to figure this shit out.

Ya’ll Ain’t Ready!

Click HERE!

Take this test at your own risk!

LMAO!

FIVE OF DEEZ

Solitaire, Ruby and Suezette got me…

10 years ago…

Summer of 1995

Just turned 16. Permed my hair after having a curly perm since the 7th grade. Yes, I said it, I had a curly perm in the 90’s! Yuck! Thanks Mom. Somehow that summer I grew a booty. And I must have gotten fine cuz boys never paid any attention to me until I turned 16. I was a candy striper at Jackson Hospital. I was in love with my first real boyfriend Bernard and he loved me back. I still couldn’t date or talk on the phone with boys yet. Strict parents. I went to a SAT prep program at FIU called PIP (Partners In Progress). I met a lot of great women there. Including Susan who would introduce me to a relationship with Christ for the first time. We’re still friends to this day. It was also the first summer that I didn’t spend hanging out with my two bestfriends because Tamara got a job at Burger King and Anna went to Colorado to visit her Dad.

5 years ago…

Summer of 2000

Just turned 21. I was 8 months pregnant with my first child by this time. I had just moved into my first 1 bedroom apartment after moving out of an apartment I shared with my Baby Daddy. That summer was lonely. I wasn’t in school. I wasn’t working. I just sat around all summer praying and watching TV, waiting for the baby to come. I went to jail for the first and last time in my life after my Baby Daddy called 911 after we had words cuz he said I hit him. I should have hit him with a frying pan cuz the cops showed up and put me in handcuffs over that petty mess. I sat in the back of that squad car and my eyes met his. I couldn’t look away. Neither could he. He watched as the car drove away. Me looking at him. Him looking at me. Me big and pregnant. Going off to jail. I didn’t sleep that night.

1 Year ago…

Summer of 2004

Just turned 25. Had a good time for my birthday! Working at the Black newspaper here in Miami. Living with my Mama and lovin it… Live-in babysitter ya’ll. ~smile~ Check the archives for the rest cuz I don’t remember. LOL!

Yesterday…

July 18, 2005

Woke up late because my sons woke me up at 3am and WOULDN’T GO BACK TO SLEEP until 6am. Didn’t get into work until 10:30 and thankfully my Director didn’t even know because she was away at a meeting. YAY! I had lunch with my Black co-workers. There aren’t too many of us there. They were glad to have me sit with them because I usually go home and chat during lunch while I nibble on a bologna and cheese sandwhich. Yeah, I’m addicted. My bestfriend Anna called me while I was at work and we chit-chatted like nothing ever happened. As usual. Real friends don’t go anywhere, no matter what. Fixed my boys Tuna Helper for dinner, it was yummy. Let them go outside and ride their motorcycles until it got dark. Put them to bed. Spoke with Michael on the phone for an hour and a half. Wow. Spoke to Sylvia and Ruby too. Chatted with Leo, Reggie and Cymple– as usual. Went to bed feeling so happy and luxurious.

Today…

July 19, 2005

Wore my little shorts to work. It’s summer time, we can wear what we want. Cleaned out the storage room. Mailed out some letters. Emailed Val all day- she’s the BLOG TV GUIDE. She tells me what’s going on with ya’ll. Kim called me at work telling me that she was stalking her ex-boyfriend. I told her to take her silly behind home! On my way home for lunch a co-worker asked me if she could come with me. ~raises eyebrow~ Damn, now I can’t chat! But I said yes and let her come home with me. We sat and talked in my living room while I munched on some Honey Smacks. Went back to work and worked some more on this research project. I laughed all day while EMAIL after EMAIL came in telling me ALL YA’LL business from the little quiz I posted. I’m glad everyone was such a good sport about it. So you won’t feel so badly: Nearly EVERYONE GIVES HEAD according to the surveys. I’ll never reveal who does what though. I can keep a secret. ~wink~

Tomorrow…

July 20, 2005

More work and more chatting and more chasing the kids around! That’s my life!

Five Snacks I Enjoy
1) Snickers Bar
2) Cereal
3) Cheddar and Sour Cream Potatoe Chips
4) White Cheddar Pop Corn
5) Crawfish

Bands/Singers that I know the lyrics to (most) of their songs
1) Bone Thugs N Harmony
2) Boys II Men
3) Lauryn Hill
4) Luke- Scarred!
5) Jodeci

Things I Would Do with $100,000,000
1) Chile please…

Five locations I’d like to run away to
1) Miami
2) South Beach
3) Miami
4) ahh, pretty much anywhere there’s beaches and good seafood, darling…

Five Bad habits that I have
1) Chewing the side of my mouth when I’m concentrating
2) Leaving my dirty clothes on the floor
3) Not washing dishes until there are no clean ones left
4) Drinking to get drunk
5) Cutting men off if they don’t excite me within 24 hours.

Things I like doing
1) Blogging
2) Waking up to my sons smiles
3) Playin the “mama” role
4) Talking on the phone with any of my girls
5) Eating out

Five Things I Would Never Wear
1) Halter top
2) Baggy jeans
3) Jersey
4) Timberlands
5) Baseball cap- yuck

Five TV shows I like
1) Being Bobby Brown
2) Animaniacs
3) Blowin Up Fatty Koo
4) Malcolm in the Middle
5) Anything on the HGTV

Five Movies I like
1) The Color Purple
2) My Bestfriend’s Wedding
3) A Bronx Tale
4) Love Actually
5) Grease

Five Famous People I’d Like to Meet
1) Oprah
2) Terry McMillan
3) Shaunie ONeal
4) P. Diddy
5) Eva The Diva
(I’d give them all my resume. I’m looking for a mentor)

Biggest joys at the Moment
1) My beautiful home – I love coming home everyday
2) Idle time- I have time to relax and enjoy being me
3) My sons- They are growing so much and they adore me
4) My friends- No words can express my love for my girls
5) My relationship with my sister- I never knew we would grow to be this close

My Favorite Toys
1) My computer ofcourse
2) My cell phone
3) My intercome radio that is installed in every room of my house
4) My Direct TV- all them damn channels man!
5) My Swiffer Wet Jet Mop

Whoa… I’m so glad I’m done.

TTYL.

Sucka For Love

Man.. I’m all tense up in my upper back. I’m wearing this frown like, “Leave me alone.”

Some days like today I’m just in this weird mood. I don’t know, maybe it is because my son was acting up all morning and sometimes I don’t know what to do with him. Now my 4 yr old is sweet as icecream. He always listens, lives to read, loves doing his schoolwork and LOVES pleasing me.

But his brother, ugh… My 3 yr old doesn’t really care. Or maybe he cares too much, I don’t know. All I know is when I don’t do exactly what he wants me to do WHEN he wants me to do it, he SCREAMS- LOUDLY!

Immediately my body tenses up and I get frustrated. I want him to stop. But I don’t want to have to spank him all the time like that. I’ll tell him, “Go to your bed until you can TELL me what you want. I don’t understand when you are screaming. You don’t get what you want by screaming.”

He will go to his bed and SCREAM and SCREAM. I close the door. He SCREAMS some more. I’ll sit on my bed and fold my arms. It seems like it is a battle of will. How long can I sit there and listen to him scream? How long will he scream?

I tap my foot on the natural wood floor. My 4 year old is sitting beside me, looking at me as if to see what I am going to do.

I sigh.

I hate to hear him scream.

His screams turn to wails. “I’M SOORRRY! I’m SOORRRRY!”

Man…

I walk into his room and his face is wet with tears. I walk over to him and he lunges at me and gives me a hug, burying his face in my neck while wrapping his arms around my neck.

I melt. He’s so cute.

He’s just a little baby. Why do I get so frustrated with him?

All he wanted was some juice.

I should have stopped doing what I was doing to give it to him. He’s just thirsty. His little throat is dry.

“I love my baby,” I coo into his ear. “Mama’s big boy. Mama’s precious, precious Angel.”

I go get his juice, and he smiles. And he’s happy.

Until the next time I don’t move fast enough for him.

~sigh~

I know, I know.

I’m a sucker.

He has me trained.

It’s Over Now

~singing~ Let me see you pop that thang, shake them titties DOO DOO BROWN!!!

There’s no better way to start a Friday morning than with some Miami BASS! My sons were so mad at me because after we arrived at their summer program I made them wait in the car through TWO SONGS because I just couldn’t miss out on shaking my ass! “Come on MAMA! Stop dancing!”

Ahh.. The weekend. What a great feeling. Especially since MY BOYS WILL BE WITH THEIR DADDY! ~sigh~ It’s times like this when I truly love that man. LOL!

So you know what I’m about to be doing right? I will be transforming. From a booty-wipin-ravioli makin-fight breakin-bedtime enforcer- into…Ms. Sexy Hotness-Do-No-Good.

Yep, straight loungin and gettin LOOOOOSE!

Starting with a wine tasting tonight then heading over to Ft. Lauderdale cuz Sylvia wants to check out some place she has heard about.

“I want to meet HOT GUYS!” No, I didn’t say that. Sylvia did. She’s on a mission and I’m along for the ride. I don’t really want to meet anyone. ~rolls eyes~ Because you know how THEY are.. and I’m not in the mood.

But I have to get something off my chest.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about who I am as a person. I realize that I have this thing, this weakness or this inability to deal with certain types of people, namely IMMATURE people. Now I’m no gramma. I can be a bit silly at times, alright, all the time. Love to munch on cereal, tell my friends how ugly they are and watch cartoons, but there are some things that cross the line.

Case in point: I’m at my mother’s house visiting with my sons when my Mama says I have a phone call. Phone call? I dont live here… Hmm?

“Hello.”
“Yes is this Ms. Tee?”
“Yes.”
“Well I wondering why your information was all up in my fiancee’s phone?”
WHAT! “And who is this and who is your man?”
“This is Kimberly and his name is Michael?”
~now ain’t this some s***.

I’m not dating anyone right now.

oh no. not again. ~breathe~

Now when I got the phone call I was like, WTF? This woman even called out my address and told me she’d be there in 25 minutes to deal with me and then hung up. Now, anyone who knows me knows I don’t fight. I don’t confront women. In fact, if I wouldn’t even surround myself with people who would resort to physical altercations because- shit- I’m too grown and too cute to be fighting. But I know a bunch of bitches who ain’t. My cousins. I called them and they were all too eager to get it jumpin. Off I went to my house to let my peeps handle business for me. Call me scary if you want? This is just not my thing.

While some would have taken this threat lightly, I didn’t. Simply because I have children in my home and well, you know I have been dealing with women and men playing on my phone and that does not sit well with me. I don’t fight and don’t play around with men who have girls, and my home is my son’s safe haven. How dare someone threaten that!

But guess what? My friend, excuse me, X friend knows this and decided that while sitting around with his girls, he’d play a joke on me by having one of his girls call me and threaten me. The joke backfired because not only did I have a bunch of chicks at my house waiting for some action, I called my Mom’s house to ask her to look on the caller ID for the number and when she gave it to me I realized it was him.

Why would a grown man and his grown ass friends play on my phone like that? What kind of a woman would even participate in such a dumb prank? And why would he think I would find it funny? I mean, even if it was a joke, shouldn’t he have called me five minutes later and let me know he was behind it? You don’t call someone and threaten them and then hang up and laugh about it!

So, in typical Ms. Tee fashion I cursed his ass out and told him: (radio version) never to call me again. Now if he had left it alone, I would have felt bad, seeing as how I know I’m uptight and take things too personally. I would have probably called him the next day and apologized for over reacting. But he didn’t leave it alone.

He proceeded to call me and text message me calling me all kinds of bitches and hoes and stupid ass and saying things like, “THAT’S WHY YO BABY DADDY DON’T WANT YOU!” and “You ain’t shit and you ain’t gonna never be shit! That’s why yo baby daddy hate you and I can see why cuz you a bitch!” And I can hear his girls in the background ampin him up. I shake my head.

Dude is wildin out. I mean, I really got like, 7 text messages from him cursing me out. I’m wondering, what kind of man is this.

See, because he and I have been friends for 8 years he knows my heart and he knows my insecurities. He knows the hurt the men in my life have passed on to me and he has always said, “No one deserves to be spoken to in that way Tee. You are a human being and a mother and that should get you a certain amount of respect right there.”

But no, he decides to try to hurt me just like the rest of them. He tried to use all of the information I entrusted him with-as my friend- against me. But it didn’t work. He didn’t hurt my feelings because I know who I am and I am tight work. I know him. And that is not his character. He is a professional man, very clean cut, very precise, very polished. And even though he was screaming into my voice mail multiple times using all kinds of insults and elementary school obscenities, I knew that he was doing it because he was hurt. Probably because I told him that I never wanted to speak to him again and maybe he figured I should have laughed at his joke. Hurting people try to hurt people. And the amount of passion he displayed showed me how much he was hurting.

Now we could have reconciled had he not taken it to a level where he was INTENTIONALLY trying to hurt my feelings, but after he did all that-acting like a donkey- things will never be the same.

I may be a punk sometims when it comes to the verbal abuse by my children’s father (I’m working on that) but I will not tolerate it from anyone else. I can’t have two Baby Daddy’s in my life.

I have zero tolerance for immature people.

And that is how you lose my friendship, people. Intentionally try to hurt me when you KNOW I’m sensitive as hell.

Ahh well. I feel kinda bad, but not really, He is a man. They are capable of anything. I should have never put it past him.

But sorry, gotta go, this chick HAS to go back to work to wrap up some things before zooming to Carol City to get my haircut and back to North Miami for the wine tasting.

I hope I have some adventures to share.

Have a great weekend everyone!

Cater To You

Before I can even blog about this weekend I have to come to terms with something.

I’m a bitch.

Yeah. I used to be a bitch way back when, slashing everyone who crossed me with my wicked tongue, cursing, even screaming at them when they made the slightest mistake. Ofcourse this was very hard on my friends because although what I said was the truth, I didn’t have to be so tactless. Even in highschool my friend Anna would say, “It’s not WHAT you say, Tee, it’s HOW you say it. You don’t have to be that harsh.” (I was just repeating how my parents treated me.)

But I changed over the years. I wasn’t so mean. Now that it seems I have come full circle I’m trying to figure out why. I’ve said before that I know that hurting people hurt people and this is the only logic I can come up with.

If you are a man, I feel very sorry for you if you happen to cross my path. I have no tolerance for men right now. None. As soon as you say a word in the wrong tone I’m telling you that I never want to see or speak to you again. And I make no exceptions. And I feel justified by doing that because at least no man will ever take me for granted again. And no man will have a chance to hurt me again.

I think it was back in June when I had a really bad experience with a man. I went out of my way to be nice to him and he totally didn’t appreciate it. In fact I’ll say that night I spent with him was the worst date I have EVER been on. And he had the nerve to try to have sex with me at the end of the evening, talking about, “I can keep a secret. Can you?” Nicca I don’t want to be your secret! ~raises eyebrow~

I vowed from that day, no man will get to see my nice side. No man will get a second chance with me. No man will get me to go out of my way to show kindness. Every man can kiss my ass. All of them. After that night I began announcing to my friends and family that I HATE MEN.

Since then I have cursed out about 2 men a week. No, I’m serious. I still accept advances but the minute they call too late, although I never define what ‘too late’ is, I curse them out and tell them to never call me again. The minute there is a misunderstanding, I tell them that I never want to see them again, please do not call me. And this weekend I actually got a call from my old faithful booty call, at 1am. 1 am. He was actually calling ME for a booty call. I was livid!

You don’t call ME when you want some! I call YOU! I am not at your disposal, you are at mine. I politely told him to take his behind home and I deleted his number from my phone. See, no tolerance.

~sigh~ I’m bitter.

I’m bitter to the point where my back hurts and I feel a stiffness in my neck. And you know what’s REALLY crazy? You won’t believe this. For real, the more I curse them out the more they love me.

Yeah. What kind of crazy men are these? I actually had a man tell me, after I cursed him out, “I want to see how mean you can be and how much I can take.”

Huh?

Being mean like that to men makes me feel powerful. It makes me feel like I have control. It is NOT in my character to be that way, I really wanna be one of those cater to you chicks, but I can’t. No one deserves it. And I’m tired of giving so much of myself and getting shit in return. So I shower all my love and affection on my sons.

I wonder about that too. I really cater to them. A lot. I take joy in bathing them, making food for them, making sure they are comfortable. I am extremely accomodating and I love to see them smile. There are times when I think to myself, “He should be doing this for himself.” But I don’t let him. I’d rather do it. And I don’t know if I’m really hurting him in the long run.

Will my sons expect all women to cater to them like I do? I know that men learn how to treat women from their mothers. Am I already off to a bad start with them because I shower them with love and affection and I adore their every breath?

It’s just…I have so much love inside of me. And I can’t express it to men because they are all assholes, so I just give it all to my boys. That affection that I desire, the kisses, the hugs, the appreciation; I look to my sons for that because no man has or ever will give that to me.

I question my choices as a parent quite often. I know that I do not endanger my children; I have too many strict rules for my life to do that, but it’s the little things I think about. I think about how my relationship with them will affect their character. Most men want women like their mothers, and if they hate their mothers then I believe they become gay. Am I being a good mother to them? Will they have a healthy relationship with a woman who treats them like I do? Or will they turn around and hate me in the future?

And the crazy thing is, because their father disrespects me so much I can’t call him to ask his opinion or get his insight. If I tell him that I need his help with the boys, the first words out of his mouth are, “If you can’t take care of them properly you need to give them to me.” So I don’t tell him anything.

The only people I can turn to for advice are the young single moms I know who are just as clueless as I am. We turn to each other because we have to be each other’s support. And I need that so much.

Like last night I used my $10 weekly lunch allowance to order some wings from Dominoes. When the wings came there was no blue cheese. No blue cheese! HELL NO! I took that shit personally! LOL!

I called and demanded that they bring me some damn blue cheese. You know they didn’t! I was soo hot! I wrote a complaint letter to the Corporate office and reported them for being rude and messing up my order and ruining my evening. LOL! I can laugh about it now, but last night I was so mad. I called my friend Anna at work and she said, “If I was there with you, I’d shove them damn wings down yo throat! You need to calm down. You let everything bother you!”

LMAO! She’s so funny. And she’s right.

I just don’t know how NOT to be uptight. I really want to relax and not curse men out all the time. I really do. But that’s just not where my heart is right now.

~blushing~

He Holds My Hand

Every night at 12:15 I would get a phone call.

I didn’t know if it was him or her playing on my phone. But now that I think about it, it could have been my X friend because he likes to play jokes like that too. Regardless, I decided to start turning my ringer off because I wasn’t interested in dealing with that drama.

On one night, I happened to be up late chit chatting away when my phone beeped. I looked at the time on my computer screen. 12:13 am. Damn.

“Hold on,” I told my friend.
“Hello.” I said.
“Oh, you can’t answer my phone calls now?”
It was him.
“Why are you calling me?”
“Why you actin like that man?”

This dude insulted me and when I told him to beat it he gives my cell and house phone number to some chick and allows her to play on my phone… and he asks me why I am actin like that. ~rolls eyes~

“Look, I told you that I don’t want to talk to you! I’m not interested in your drama! You KNOW that! Givin my number out and shit…what kind of nicca are you?”
“Man! Calm down. What are you talkin about? I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“I don’t CARE! Don’t call me anymore. You seem to have forgotten, not only do I have YOUR number too, I have your Mama’s house number and your Daddy’s cell phone number. If you wanna continue to disrespect my house, I can do the same to YOURS! But I won’t because I have sense!”
“Let me TALK!” He tries to interrupt.
“I don’t care what you have to say. Don’t call me anymore!”

I hang up.

And I haven’t gotten a 12:15 am call since.

Good riddance…

Last night my Mama and my Stepdaddy came over. They are avid DVD collectors and they really do have a ridiculous collection. My friend Sylvia called me this weekend and told me that I needed to see The Diary of A Mad Black Woman because it reminded her of me. So I called my Mama and asked her if she had it, ofcourse she did. But she wouldn’t let me borrow it. “This ain’t Blockbuster bitch!” she told me with a laugh. “I don’t trust your ass with my movies. I’ll come over and watch it with you so I can get my shit back in one piece.”

Yeah, my Mama really speaks like that. I just have to laugh. She’s hilarious. She and I are so different. She’s way more hood than I am. She will STILL fight you if you try her. She has long blonde dreads and one gold tooth right in the front. Disco Rick is what we call people with one gold tooth. It has a tear drop in the middle.

My Mama lived a crazy hard life. She was one of 12 children born to her mother and father. She says they were that family that everyone laughed at because they were so poor and lived in a broke down house. But since she had so many brothers and sisters, she was never afraid to fight. She’s short, like me. Maybe 5’2″. Light skinned with green eyes. I was always afraid of her because she never let go of this mean mug. She always looks as if she’s about to choke you.

Her mother died when she was nine. And under the pressure of raising 12 kids, her father killed himself when she was 11. All of the kids were shuffled around to foster homes and basically raised themselves since then. From what I hear, my Mama was a wild cat. She would fight any and everyone in a quick minute regardless of their size. And she would cuss out the President if he looked at her funny. She would tell me, “I had no patience for silly bitches on my job. If one of them tried me, I’d beat that bitches ASS! Shit! I could always find another job.”

And then there was my StepDaddy. He came over too and my sons jumped on him, pounding him with their fists and jumping on his back. They adore their Granddaddy. He gives them anything they want, and I do mean ANYTHING. One day my sons asked him, “Granddaddy. Why do you always buy us everything?” He just smiled and said, “I’m Granddaddy.”

Now for as long as I’ve known him he has worked two jobs to support us. With little education, the only jobs he could get were physical labor type jobs, but he still does it to this day. I am sometimes in conflict over my feelings for him. I had a rough childhood, mostly due to his harsh criticism and abuse, but I can not help but to feel appreciation for how well he took care of me. I remember when I was voted Most Popular in highschool. I came home and told them about it and he laughed. “I never even liked THOSE KIND OF GIRLS in school. And now my own daughter is one of them… Now don’t forget who bought you those clothes and made sure your hair was always done so that you could be so proud to stand in front of everyone all the time.”

After the boys were sent to bed, we all went to watch the movie in my living room. I watched as he struggled to sit down on the floor. He’s getting old. Wow. I used to have nightmares about this man. I remember lieing awake in bed at night shivering and waiting for him to come home late at night when I had done something to piss my Mama off. I knew he would come in, flip the light switch and drag me out of bed by my leg. I would have to listen to a long ass lecture, sometimes followed by mutliple slaps to my face and demeaning words no child should have to hear. The same insults my X friend used last week. The same words my Baby Daddy would use too.

I’d lie awake at night. My teeth would chatter anxiously. I hated that feeling. I’d take a sock and put in in my mouth to stop the grinding. And I’d wait and wait. For him to come. To punish me.

Now as I watched him laugh at Madea, I felt a sense of peace. A sense of forgiveness. He’s just a man. Just a man. He’s not a monster. Anymore. He wants the same things I want: love, family, appreciation. Maybe he didn’t know how to express his desire. Maybe he didn’t know how to show love except through buying me what I wanted.

Whatever the reason for all those years of tears, I’m over it. I really am.

And that movie. Wow. I can see why Sylvia told me to watch it.

~singing~ strumming my pain with his fingers…

I needed to see that.

It inspired me. It helped me to see that I’m not the worst person in the world. If someone can make a movie that mirrors the pain in my heart, then that means that I am not the lowest of the low. Someone else has gone through this too. It’s not just ME. I’m not the only one.

All these years I thought I received so much abuse because I deserved it. They all justified their behaviour by saying that they were reacting to MY actions. But no, it wasn’t me. It wasn’t even them. It was a war waged against me since the day I was conceived. A spiritual war that I can not fight alone.

Someone doesn’t want me to succeed. Someone doesn’t want me to recognize my worth. Someone doesn’t want me to know who I am in Christ. So he sends multiple men to bring me down, to break me down, to crush my spirit.

There’s a reason why I am pretty, talented and personable. And it’s not so that I can live rich and be famous and wear the best fashions. I was given these gifts for one reason, to glorify God. And to have Christ’s light shine through me.

And I will not allow anyone to take that from me.

I will be used.

I will fulfill my destiny.

You can’t stop me.

Because He holds my hand.

YAY!

The Shuttle launched!

Good luck!

Colorful Images

There was a hush over the city of Miami last night.

A collective gasp that turned into multiple heads shaking under the Miami moonlight.

One of our longtime Black politicians who had been crucified for MONTHS in the local media for his involvement in money laundering and a host of other political crimes, walked into The Miami Herald (our local newspaper), asked for a particular journalist who had been following his criminal investigation and subsequent indictment, and shot himself in front of him.

A Black politician.

Within the hour, every television station broadcast color photos of this man’s dead body soaked with blood during the early evening news. It turns out that a Herald staff member took the pictures and passed them on to the media.

This morning the radio stations were buzzing with irate callers expressing sympathy for the politician’s family. One 99 Jamz caller said, “I can’t imagine being one of his relatives and turning on my television and seeing that after my evening meal. They have no respect for the dead. It doesn’t matter what he did, they should have kept those images to themselves.”

My heart sank when I heard the news. Yeah, he was guilty of those crimes. Yeah, he deserved the lofty sentence that awaited him, but what was really behind the mounting accusations and slander? Better question: who? Could he have acted alone? Or was he the fall guy? Was the media responsible for his actions that evening? Was their relentless pursuit of scandal the reason he felt he could no longer go on?

There are so many questions that need to be considered here, but the main question is, why?

Suicide.

Is that really the answer?

I know that I have thought about this method of solving my problems. I used to think, “Since everyone is so critical of me, maybe they would be happier if I was gone.” I don’t think that way anymore.

Yes, suicide is an option, but it should not be a realistic one. Don’t you know what that voice is that is telling you to do it? It’s not God. It’s not your rational mind. It’s a force trying to rob you of all God has for you. I battled with this voice who had me convinced that everyone was against me and I don’t deserve life. But thank God for divine intervention, because if I had not called Mimi one drama filled night, I may not be here today to encourage you through this.

I too, considered suicide. Back when I was pregnant with my first son. I was at my lowest point. I had no money. I wasn’t in school. And my Baby Daddy hated me. And I was to blame for it all. One night we had a fight and he left with one of his girlfriends. I was so devastated. So upset that I dissappointed him yet again. I took a cup and a bottle of bleach and I sat down on the green couches in our living room. I tore a piece of paper out of a journal I had been keeping and divided it into two sides. On one side I wrote: Reasons to live. On the other side I wrote: Reasons to die.

I easily filled the ‘reasons to die’ list with things like; I can’t make my boyfriend happy. I’m horrible at school. He hates that I don’t clean. I’m really a bother to my friends and they really don’t like me. I’m a burden to everyone and they just put up with me because they feel sorry for me.

I couldn’t think of a single thing to put on my ‘reasons to live’ list.

Before I downed the cup, a moment flashed through my mind. I remembered meeting one of my sorority sisters and her whispering in my ear one night after a sorority meeting, “Hey, if you ever need to talk, you can call me.” I remembered her at that moment although I had never spoken to her before. I called around until I found her number and I asked her to come over. She did, with no hesitation even we were not friends and I had never spoken to her before.

I showed her the lists. She took me to her house and I cried and I screamed and I kicked wondering why I wasn’t good enough for him. I wondered why he wasn’t EVER satisfied with me even though I accepted his ashy ass and he wasn’t even attractive. I cried and I cried and she held me. And then…she began to pray.

She prayed so much that I could not stand to listen anymore. I was all cried out. As I opened my mouth to tell her to stop, no words came out. Only sounds. A jumble of words and phrases unlike anything I had ever heard before. It was as if my words were being spoken for me in one long howling breath.

That night I knew that things were about to change. I went home, picked up the broken glass from the window I had broken in my rage and fell asleep on the couch. Two weeks later, God saved me from myself.

Since then I have had rough times. I still battle them now but I will never again consider suicide simply because my life was a gift from God and you don’t return a gift from God. As bad as it may get. As low as you may feel. As much as you may hate yourself, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. I promise. The weight may feel like it’s too heavy to bear. I know. I’ve been there, but if you give up now you may NEVER get to experience those things that you were too afraid to hope for. You’ve always wanted a family? Well, how do you know that your desire was not just moments away? School got you stressed? It’s just school. You will pass. I NEVER thought that I would graduate. I was the WORST student. But I have a degree from a premiere University. I got it! Just barely, but it’s mine.

If I had given up that night I would have never been the first person in my family to receive a college degree. If I had given up that night I would never know the joy of motherhood. If I had given up that night I would have never seen healing in my relationship with my mother or seen my sister get saved. Look at all I almost missed out on! All because I was focused on a person who did not value me. Don’t focus on that one negative aspect of your life. Are you lookin good? Smellin good? Eatin good? Well, AMEN!

Some people don’t have that. You are in this world for a reason. You were created to be a blessing to SOMEONE. Someone needs you. Yes, YOU! Someone needs you to show them love. Someone needs you to listen to them. You are someone’s soulmate. Don’t block someone else’s blessing.

Don’t allow a temporary situation to get you to make a mistake you can’t repent for. There’s no way to ask for forgiveness once you’re gone.

Even on my worst day, when I’m stank and hot and my kitchen is a mess and I have to scrounge around for quarters for gas, I manage to thank God. I call my friends and complain and then I thank God because at least He decided to wake me up today. And each day he blessed me with the gift of life, is another day I can work towards making my existence a little better to cope with.

If you haven’t heard it today; I love you. I really do. I may not be perfect but I am so good at showing love. Drop me a line if you ever want to talk.

Sincerely,

Ms. Tee

The difference between 20 and 30

Sylvia came over tonight.

With a bottle of vodka and a sad ass movie that was a complete waste of time. It was called Closer. Don’t see this movie. You will be very pissed off at the end. I promise. ~rolls eyes~

Funny thing is, I couldn’t even drink. We usually watch a movie and have a few drinks but I just couldn’t. It may have something to do with the fact that I haven’t had any hard liquor since my birthday almost a month ago. I don’t know, I just…don’t have the taste for it anymore. Oh yeah and I haven’t smoked at all either. ~shrugs~

Last weekend was so crazy. Cuz usually when my sons are gone I get loose! I look forward to it. I love to do it, but..this time, I didn’t do anything. No seriously, I only went to the wine tasting, had a great time BY MYSELF and came straight home. I then spent the rest of the night watching TV by myself. I can’t believe it either.

And the next day, I woke up around 10 am and got out of bed and I, now sit down or you’ll probably spill your drink, I cleaned up my house. ~cringing~ I really did. It smelled like pine sol and bleach around this piece. I was so proud of myself! I even did laundry! I’m so confused. I don’t know who I am anymore.

The rest of the day was spent talking on the phone with Kim as she prepares to move to Atlanta next week for her new job. After we were done, I went to the bookstore aka pure heaven.

I love the bookstore. It’s like, the most perfect place in the world. When I go to the bookstore I have no worries. I am truly happy and carefree. I have no agenda. I just, browse the titles and read the synopsis. I pick one and find a quiet spot and then I lie down and read for hours. Right there, on the floor. No one bothers me. It’s the most amazing feeling. It feels like complete freedom.

I went in to the store for one book. Confessions of a Video Vixen. I got it. I took it home and read it straight through. I finished in 3 hours. I liked it. I found 3 little mistakes a copy editor should have found but overall it was just a very moving and personal story. It is going to make a good movie.

I invited Sylvia to go with me to South Beach tomorrow night. She’s so excited. She has been asking me to go out with her for WEEKS. I’m not really up to it, but one of my absolute favorite bloggers is in town and I want to meet him. Him. Yes, he’s a man. So that puts a damper of things a bit. But I’m trying not to think about his being a man and just go and have some guaranteed fun with someone who seems to be guaranteed fun. I hope I get to go out there and relax and stop being so damn uptight about everything. Will this pain in my upper back ever go away?

What am I dealing with lately? Well, what do you do when you have a man in your world who is saying all the right things but he is someone that you know you would NEVER EVER in a million years be with? Why does shit happen like that?

You never love the one who loves you. And vice versa. Why is love so mismatched like that? And why do we even desire love anyway? I mean, its really just a FEELING. An emotion. And we all know emotions are ever changing.

I don’t rememeber if it was a movie or a book or whatever but someone said, “Everyone in their 20’s is looking to get married and everyone in their 30’s is looking to get a divorce.”

Now ain’t that some mess?

I remember writing a song before but I don’t remember the words. I just remember this beautiful melody in my head and my voice, sounding strong and clear and wonderful singing this magnificent tune. I just can’t hear it anymore.

That is how I feel right now. There’s a tune my heart used to sing. I remember the feeling associated with it. But I just can’t hear it anymore.

But I want to, because I’m so tired ya’ll.

I’m so tired of not feeling free.