These Are My Frustrations

I am having a difficult time adjusting to Atlanta for two reasons.

1) My internet is STILL not working at home so I can’t blog on the regular and I’m going through severe blogger withdrawal. Please pray for me.

2) I STILL don’t understand why these people, especially MEN are so nice to me.

I don’t get it. Did your Mama raise you like that? It’s scaring me! HELP!

Why are you- this man I barely even KNOW- opening doors for me, never allowing me to pay for myself, being kind and courteous and calm? What are you trying to do? What is your motive?

Last week my publisher said to me, “I am going to make sure you have everything you need to achieve greatness.”




And tell me something….why is it that I always get so horny when I’m driving?

I’m sitting there gliding on the expressway, my right hand resting gently on my thigh. My left hand gripping the steering wheel firmly, up and down, up and down as I maneuver toward my destination. I squeeze the wheel tightly sometimes, just to let it know I’m in control. I like the feeling, the POWER of being behind the wheel. It gets me excited. So much so that I’m squirming in my seat before I reach where I’m going.


I need some D**K!!!!!!!

Please don’t be mad at me but I was spoiled in Miami. Dude spoiled me. Now he’s not here and I have no one to handle that for me.

I need to be touched.

I’m freaking out!

I go home everyday to quiet. No internet. No kids. No nothing. Just me. I sleep on the couch because the bed feels too big. It reminds me that I am alone.

I want my Boo Boo’s! I want my booty rubbed!

I miss affection and attention and booty smacking late into the night.


But I’ll be okay. I can’t mess with these men here. I heard that 50% of the men here are on the down low. And I heard that the ratio of men to women is 10:1.

~dreamy music playing~

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

Will I ever get my booty rubbed again? Again? Again? Again?

Finally Connected

Guess who’s got an internet connection?


Get it Mama! ~pop~

Work it chick! ~shake~

Shake that thang! ~do it Mama~

Ok…I was about to sit and write a detailed description of my WORK IT OUT LABOR DAY weekend touring Atlanta but…I’m tired as hell and I’m going to bed.

So all you get is this picture to tell you how I ended up.

I’ll get the rest of the story up soon… promise.

My Work It Out Labor Day Weekend

It’s Friday night and I decide to stay at work late because I have to pick my girl Ruby up from the train station. It has been more than two years since I saw her. The last time I laid eyes on her it was a tearful goodbye in Gainesville as I handed her her extra set of car keys and she sped away to her new life in Atlanta.

Ofcourse we kept in touch through the magic of the internet and her blog but this was different…I was about to see my girl in person and I knew I’d have one helluva weekend.

I found the Amtrak station easily enough and I hung out across the street at the bookstore until an old man decided to follow me around. I quickly ran across the street and sat inside the station on a hard wooden bench trying to keep from nodding off. Twenty minutes later, the station manager announced that her train had arrived.

I stood up in plain view of the exiting passengers a smile already forming on my expectant face. When I feel someone standing too close to me I look up and it’s the old man from the bookstore with a crumpled piece of paper in his hand. He extended his hand to me and I saw that he had written his name on it. “I hope you call me,” he said and grinned. I shook my head and dropped the paper in my bag. Before he could continue the conversation I looked up and there she was.

I couldn’t contain myself. I did a happy dance by clapping my hands and stomping my foot and I hugged my friend and cried. ~smile~ I missed her ugly behind so much!

We both did little twirls so we could assess how much we had both changed. Ruby’s booty was a little smaller but otherwise she looked the same. Her hair was short and curly similar to the style Eva the Diva wears. “I love your hair Ruby!” I told her. She grinned. “It’s my new style. The hairdresser set it on tiny rollers just like you get when you’re getting a curly perm.”

“Where’s Donald?” I asked her, eager to meet the love of her life.

“He’s right there,” she said and my eyes scanned the room for him and rested on this hunk of a tenderoni standing near the baggage claim.

“Is that him?” I asked, my mouth salivating. “He’s fine girl!”

“I know. That’s my man.”

Donald walks over and gives me a big hug. He has this Hawaiian look to him and he’s built like a small football player with wide shoulders and straight hair. I hear he’s part Native American. From the moment he hugged me, I knew we would become friends.

We hop into my car and roll out to dinner at TGI Fridays. Ruby notices her phone is dead and she ‘s a little disturbed that she can’t retrieve her friends numbers from her phone to call them to meet us at Fridays.

“I know,” she says. “Tee, let me use your phone. Maggie called me and left her number on my voicemail so I can call her back and let her call the rest of the girls.”

When we reach Friday’s on Peachtree I am a little perturbed. When did they start valet parking at Fridays? I hand over my keys to the valet and we walk in and are seated outside on the patio within minutes.

We ask for just one extra seat because Ruby is only expecting Maggie to show but when she spots Maggie in the parking lot, a woman calls out her name. Ruby squeals, “Ron!”

Both women make their way to our table and I introduce myself to them. It turns out Ron is a Gator grad too and I recognize her from the millions of pics that Ruby has of the two of them. She sits next to me and smiles. “I’ve read your blog,” she says. I cringe. Oh shit…

As we eat and fellowship I decide I like Ron. She has long dark hair that cascades down her back and a cute personality to match. She’s one of those nice girls who seems to get everything she wants and knows she’s hot. She tells me she’s almost done with grad school and just bought a house. Yes! She’s a winner. I’m sure we’ll be friends. I have to surround myself with upwardly mobile people and the fact that she’s a Gator grad and a 24 year old homeowner, speaks highly of her.

Ruby’s friend Monique shows up too. She wears a huge grin that is a genuine indication of the happiness in her life. I like that. No pretenders here. Monique just closed on her home as well. “It’s just a 3 bedroom 2 bath townhouse. Nothing too big until I get married girl,” she coos and grins. These women are FIRE!

We sit and munch and decide that we will go home and freshen up before we hit the club. Ruby drives us back to my place and I show them their room with the leftover Hello Kitty bedsheets from Tamara’s daughter. They both laugh as they unpack. An hour later we’re ready to go. We head to midtown and this spot called 1150. They tell us it’s $15 to get in and we turn our black asses right around. We march up and down the strip and none of the clubs there satisfy us. A crackhead spots our crew and calls us by celebrity names. Maggie was Rickie Lake and I was Grace Jones. LOL!

We hop back into the car and ride over to a spot called Halo. Once inside I look around and notice that there aren’t too many of ‘us’ there. Ron immediately heads to the bar and orders drinks for all of us. We sit and sip and take pictures but I’m not really feeling the music so I just sit and watch all of the white people stand around and talk.

After a couple of rounds of drinks Ruby is ready to go. We hug goodbye and head out for a bite to eat. Ruby is dissappointed as we drive from spot to spot. All of her favorite restaurants are closed. We finally make it to the Landmark, a 24 hour diner and I order fried fish and grits. Yummy!

By the time we make it home it’s nearly 5am. We all flop into the bed and get some rest.

We wake up the next day and get dressed to go out. We stop by Ruby’s friend Kay’s house in Buckhead to pick her up and I realize that Kay is also a Gator grad, one of the smartest, most sassy chicks I know. She’s working on her PhD and a full time employee of the Environmental Protection Agency.

Ruby takes the wheel and takes us to Chipotle. I still don’t know how to pronounce that word but it doesn’t matter because my fajita wrap is off the heezy and I finish my food first.

Ruby’s next stop is a little shop in Buckhead where she says we will all get our eyebrows threaded. Threaded? What does that mean?

I sit down in the chair and the Asian woman steps up beside me with a piece of string in her hand as if she’s about to strangle me with it. I sit straight up. Hollup!

“Is it gonna hurt?”I ask her.

“A little,” she admits.

“No thanks,” I tell her. “Just wax me. And get my chin too.” I’m so tired of all this damn facial hair.

I feel the warmth of the wax on my forhead and I relax. But soon I feel a pinch. Almost like someone is snapping a rubberband on my eyebrows. I take a peek and see the lady with the thread, going to work on my eyebrows. I sit quietly and allow her to finish. When she’s done I inspect her work. Hmm…pretty nice. How did she do that with some thread?

A quick stop at Target to pick up some hair dye and we’re almost done. I wanted to buy more foundation because I’m all out but I can’t seem to find a spot that sells my brand; Iman- Clay 2.

“Why don’t we all just chill at your house and play some cards tonight,” Ruby suggests. “We can buy some food and I’ll cook and we can drink too. I’ll call my girls and invite them over.”

True! I call Tamara to invite her and her fiance and she says she’s game. When we hang up I say to Ruby, “Now if Tamara invites us to HER house, that would be so much better. Her house is so tight!”

Before I even finish my sentence my cell rings and it’s Tamara. I smile at Ruby and the crew in the backseat. That’s my girl!

“Tee, why don’t you and your friends come to our house tonight instead.”

“What a great idea, Tamara. I should have thought of that!” LOL!

We ride out to Stone Mountain to attend the wedding rehearsal dinner for Tamar, Ruby’s friend. Tamar’s wedding is the reason Ruby’s in town. Tamar is a Gator grad too so I smile warmly and congralulate her on her wedding which is only a day away.

I’m sitting casually in the clubhouse nibbling on some chocolate cake while the men are outside playing basketball. Three men who turn out to be groomsmen walk in wearing shorts and tees and fix themselves plates and chat with me. I’m having a grand ol time flirting when I hear Kay bust through the door and call my name.

“Tee! Girl, we’re all outside. I didn’t want to leave you here by yourself.”

I look at the men that surround me and think, “Girl, get your ass outta here!” But I smile and walk away. Good move. Keep them wanting more.

By 10pm we know we have to get going. Ruby calls all of her friends and invites them to Tamara’s house but no one seems particularly interested. It’s okay. As long as Ruby’s there, I know we’ll have a good time.

We hit the grocery store and then home to change clothes before we ride out once again all the way to Fairburn to go to Tamara’s house.

As soon as we hit the door, I give Tamara’s fiance a hug and we invade the quiet of their home. The tenderoni Byron is there too. We pull out our liquid party and showcase our choices. I had picked up a 12 pack of Heineken because I know Byron likes to drink beer. Ruby had chosen a nice white wine and Ruby’s boyfriend had purchased a bottle of Bacardi.

Tamara’s fiance dissappears and returns with his favorite purple bag of Crown Royal. He pulls out the gallon of liquor and lines up shot glasses on the kitchen table.

“Let’s toast,” he says as we all raise our shot glasses. He had poured Tamara a shot glass filled with Sprite so she could participate although even though she is pregnant.

“I’ll do it!” I squeal and announce, “May the blessings of Christ overtake us all.”

There is an eery silence. No one wants to drink to that.

“Why not?” I ask them all. “We’re not hurting anyone. No one is driving. God wants us to have a good time tonight.”

“Oh, ok,” they all agree reluctantly and we empty our glasses.

“One more!” AJ, Tamara’s fiance announces.

The smell of Ruby’s fried chicken invades our nostrils. “Hurry up and cook!”I tell her.

Before long she brings me a single fried chicken wing. It looks funny but I’m so hungry I eat it anyway.

We all head downstairs to play pool and relax. I hate playing pool so I take a seat and watch them. The music is blasting, we’re all feeling lovely and AJ brings out a playing deck with pornographic pictures on them.

Ruby and Donald sit down to play spades against Tamara and AJ while Byron in a drunken stupor decides to try to molest me in front of everyone. I’m so gone that I can barely fight him off. Instead I calmy remind him in a whisper. “You’re disrespecting me. Chill out Byron. This is not going to happen.”

He gives up and tries again 10 minutes later. He finally gives up and goes upstairs to bed.

Aj goes up to check on him and comes back downstairs laughing. “I think Byron threw up all over the bathroom. There’s throw up on the floor, on the toilet and everywhere!”

Ewww. We all laugh and continue to mingle.

Through the madness I manage to sneak upstairs to the guest room I occupy when I sleep over. I remove my earrings and clothes and snuggle into the big canopy bed.

“WAKE UP!” I awake to a screech. I open my eyes and Ruby and Tamara are standing over me.

“GET YO ASS UP!” they yell at me.

“I’m sleepy,” I whine.

“So!” Tamara says. “If I’m up you have to be up too. Now put your clothes back on and come downstairs.”

I frown and sit up. I hate them.

I head back downstairs and we all sit down on the patio and talk and talk into the night. At some point I remember getting permission from Tamara to go to bed and I fly upstairs back to the coziness of my room.

When I wake up the whole house is quiet. I creep downstairs and start cleaning up. Taysia, Tamara’s 4 year old daughter wakes up and I invite her to keep me company while I clean.

When I’m almost done I run down to the guest bedroom in the basement and wake Ruby and Donald up. “Get up! We have to get going so I can die my hair before we go to the wedding.”

Ruby dresses quickly and passes out again on the leather couches in the living room. “I have a hangover dawg,” she tells me.

“That’s okay,”I tell her. “I’ll drive. I feel fine.”

We drive back to my house and I drop them off. If I’m going to the wedding I need new shoes. I call Tamara to ask her for directions to the mall and I head over there. I see a dress that I fall in love with. It’s a weird pattern of bright colors and I love bright colors.

Damn. Now I need shoes. On to Wild Pair for the perfect pair of gold stiletto’s. Damn. Now I need a purse to match. I call Ruby to ask if she has a purse for me to borrow. She doesn’t. So I pick up a purse and some earrings from Claire to set my outfit off.

I’m eager to hear what Ruby will say about my outfit. She’s the fashionista. I am NOT a shopper. I hate to shop and what’s worse is I feel guilty about buying clothes when I’m supposed to be saving every penny but…it’s been a long time since I bought something for myself so I convince myself it’s okay.

When I get back to my place Ruby and Donald are still sleeping.

“WAKE UP!” I scream and pound on their door. “Get up! Let’s kick it before the wedding.”

They both grumble and I leave the room to die my hair red.

We kick it for a minute and then get dressed for the wedding. Ruby is wearing a black dress with small white polka dots. Her dress looks like it is straight off of an episode of Sex and the City.

When we arrive at the wedding the procession hasnt started yet and we’re glad. It’s an outside wedding at the Vecoma at the Yellow River and the chairs are arranged neatly in rows just like out of a magazine. There are about a hundred people in attendance.

I spy Ms. Suezette Everlasting sitting next to Ron and I give her a big hug. Even though she’s a Gator grad, I had never met her on campus. I didn’t get to meet a lot of people because once I had my kids I pretty much dropped out of the social scene.

I sit next to Kay and she has her cousin sitting next to her.

“I know you!” I squeal at the woman. She smiles faintly.

“That’s my cousin Danielle. She says she knows you from middle school,” Kay says.

I give Danielle a hug and we catch up on the last 13 or so years.

The wedding was amazing. The ceremony was short and to the point. The bridesmaids dresses were the most beautiful I have ever seen. They were a caramel color. Immediately after the ceremony we all walked up to the club house for drinks on the patio and then into the main room for dinner.

The food was off the heezy and the wedding cake was so good I had two pieces. We all drank and laughed and danced. Even the DJ was good! I’ll admit I went to the middle of the floor for the bouquet toss but I wasn’t trying to catch it. And that’s real.

“Tee,” Ruby whispers into my ear. “Suezette got us on the guest list for a club called ONE in midtown. It’s gonna be nice. You’ll love it friend.”

We all ride out to ONE in midtown and ofcourse as is typical in Atlanta, the club has valet parking. We take a look at the long line and Suezette marches right to the front and speaks to the promoter. I have no idea what she’s talking about so I wait patiently. They go back and forth and I hear he words, ‘table’, ‘bottles’ and ‘VIP’.

We walk in a few minutes later and Ruby tells me we bought a table in VIP.

~shaking my thang~

Of all the partying I did in Miami, I have never been in VIP before.

VIP at Club ONE turns out to mean that there is no wait in line and we get to sit down on plush seats while everyone else has to stand.

Our first bottle hits the table and we drink up. Wine bottles start to flow and before I know it I announce, “Now let’s go dance with these down low brothas!”

We hit the dance floor and after only one song the Dj changed his set to…ughhh…reggae. I lowered my head and left the dance floor. Ya’ll know I can’t dance to reggae music.

I spend the rest of the night at the table talking to Suezette and taking short naps. Suezette is just the way I expected her to be, cool as hell. She’s taking pictures all night long in true journalistic fashion. I love it! Ruby says to me, “These pics are gonna be all over facebook by tomorrow.”

I wanna mingle but…I just can’t shake the creeps I am getting about the men here. I have honestly never seen so many gay men in my life. Ok, granted this weekend was gay pride weekend, but they were out in droves and I can’t deny it man…I’m afraid.

At one point Ron, Suezette and I are sitting at the table when Suezette says it is her turn to buy a round of drinks. “Ya’ll want shots of patron?” she asks us.

“Yeah!” We all cheer.

She whispers to the waitress and frowns. “The shots are $14 a piece,” she says sadly. We all frown.

“So?” Ron says. “I don’t want anything else if I can’t have patron.”

Suezette looks at her as if to say, “Bitch you crazy!”

Ron responds quickly in fabulous girl fashion, “Girl, what the hell you mean? BALL OUT BITCH! BALL OUT! That ain’t shit! Buy them drinks!”

Suezette just laughed and waved the waitress away.

I wouldn’t have bought them either. At least not on my current budget. ~smile~

We end the night with all smiles and we head to the Waffle House to fill our bellies before we go home. The clock reads 5:32 am as we pull up to my place.

Ruby and Donald have to be at the train station by 8am. We all lie down for a quick nap. When Ruby wakes me I pull on my slippers and hop into the car. I notice that it’s 8:30 am. Donald is on the phone with the train station asking them to hold the train.

When we get there we rush in and find that the train is late. ~phew~
I wave goodbye to Ruby and head back to my car.

The ride home is quiet as I reflect on my weekend. It’s not over yet. It’s Labor Day and my goal is to get in touch with Yolanda to finally meet her. I call her and leave a message. My voice is almost gone due to the excessive partying that I had been doing but she calls me back anyway and laughs at me.

She extends an invitation to come to her family barbecue and I take a nap before I head over there.

When I get there her 17 year old daughter greets me. Wow. She’s very pretty. I meet her sons and her other daughter and the famous HH greets me shyly. I produce my contribution to the barbecue; a six pack of Corona and everyone looks at me strangely. I laugh.

“This is a non alcholic house,” her witty daughter tells me with a smile.


I thought we would be outside in the heat so I wore my little jean shorts and a tank top but Yolanda says there are too many mosquitoes to be outside. All of a sudden I feel underdressed. LOL!

At this point I realize that I must look like an out of towner with my bright red hair, short shorts and heels. I realized that we show a lot of skin in Miami because it’s so hot and people here dress a lot more conservatively. Oops…I’ll get it together. I hope I didn’t offend anyone.

I grub on turkey burgers that taste like heaven and we all sit down to watch a great movie and half of Chris Rock’s ‘Neva Scared’ comedy show. Tamara calls me and tells me she’s in Decatur and to stop by the house party where she is. I pack up the Corona’s and give Yolanda a hug goodbye.

It turns out that Tamara’s house party is just down the street and I find it easily. I smile as I walk up to the door, beer in hand. Another Black family with a beautiul home. I’m loving Atlanta more and more each day. I say hello to everyone and put my beer on the counter. A quick glance tells me that everyone had been drinking Corona’s as they watched the game. I knew they wouldn’t go to waste.

We all hang out and I watch them play spades until around 9pm. I follow Tamara and AJ back to their house and we sit on the patio and sit wine until about 1 am.

The next day I feel fine and even manage to make it in to work on time.

I’m a soldier. I thought I told ya.

Thanks for your patience guys. I’m back on track with the blogging now… I can’t wait to tell you all the exciting things that have been happening at the magazine.

See Ya Later!

First Taste Of the Celebrity Life

I woke up today in a really bad mood. All of a sudden I started feeling guilty about my Labor Day weekend and all the freedom I have.

Shouldn’t I be slaving away, grinding to get my kids up here? Shouldn’t I be crying everyday and being sick to my stomache because I’m not where I need to be in life. I have so many goals that are yet accomplished, how dare I go out and party!

This funk lasted for most of the day. Self condemnation is a bitch! I have until the end of November to save enough money to move into another place and have a cushion for when my sons come up here because on my current salary, I can’t take care of my family.

Too bad cuz I really like my job. All I do is interview successful people and write about them. It’s sometimes stressful having to be creative all the time and believe me its not easy at all. I went in there with no experience as a staff writer and thankfully everyone has been patient with me. I’ve even branched out as the content manager and things are rocky for now as I try to balance both jobs but..I’m hanging in there.

The weird thing about my job is I didn’t picture myself doing lifestyle writing. It’s the same thing that happened in Miami when I first began freelancing. All of the jobs that came my way were entertainment oriented. The weird thing is, I’m not that interested in the entertainment industry, least of all rap music. I don’t even own a CD collection.

But here I am at work, holding the position of content manager. There is a big crate of CD’s sitting next to my desk just waiting for us to listen to them and write about them in the magazine. I can review any CD that I want and say anything that I want about it. And my opinion will be distributed across 19 cities in the US. Isn’t that funny?

Today was a pretty big day for me. I had 4 phone interviews in a row. One of them was my first celebrity.

I called Tamara at work after being given my assignment. “Tamara! Um…who is Young Buck?”

She laughed. “Girl! Shorty wanna ride wit me…” she sang.

“Oh yeah…I liked that song. Now tell me what you know about him because I have to interview him this afternoon and I don’t know anything about the man.”

I ended up calling an old friend from Miami to get the real scoop on Young Buck and the interview went okay. I was so nervous because I was relying on information relayed to me by friends.

“How does it feel to be the only Southern rapper in your… Do you find that there’s a lot of pressure there?”

“We all enjoyed your appearance on Flava of Love. What did you think of the experience and if you could choose one of the women from the contestants, who would it be?”
“I know you just released an underground CD, when can we expect your new album and who will be on it with you?”Child! I was so scared that he was gonna go, “Who the f**k gave you that information.”He was nice though and very cordial. After a grueling day my brain was busted so I left work early at 5pm. Yep, 5pm is EARLY for the magazine. I knew I had to go home to get a quick nap in before I went out to the Billboard R&B and Hip Hop Awards. I snatched up an extra pass for my girl Tamara and she and I rode out there to see who we could see.I worked a little bit as a member of the paparazzi. I stood on the red carpet taking pictures as the artists came by. But then I went inside to enjoy the show. Let’s see if I can remember who was there. Shareefa, Lupe Fiasco, Akon hosted the show.. Young Jeezy appeared. I saw Flava Flav. Um…Alicia Key’s boyfriend. What’s his name? The other half of Crucial Keys. Anyway…Jermaine Dupree was there. Bobby Valentino. I don’t know who else. Oh yeah, Ludacris performed too. Oh yeah…Lyfe Jennings sang 3 songs.I’m sorry that I still don’t have a digital camera. Those would have been great pictures to share with you guys. After the show everyone kinda stood around mingling. I didn’t want to stay so we did a once around the place and we left before midnight.Now I’m about to go to bed because the magazine is having an event tomorrow morning to encourage literacy among the youth and I’m excited to participate. They have been working very hard planning it and I want to do my part.I miss my boys.I really do.

Love Is All Around Me

I think I’m turning into a lesbian.

Or maybe I just hope so.

Why else would I be experiencing such intense feelings of fear when I am around men? I try to talk to my friends about it but they all look at me like I’m crazy and two have warned that if I become a lesbian they will not be able to continue our friendship.

I wish I was a lesbian. Then it would explain the anxiety I experience everytime a man tries to develop a relationship with me. The only thing about being a lesbian is…I don’t want to be in a relationship with a woman and the so called sex is physically unsatisfying.

sooo….I don’t know. There’s been a lot going in my world. Maybe I’m just developing this anxiety because I’m really afraid no man will ever be satisfied with me. It doesn’t help that all of my friends seem to be finding true love.

Guess who is engaged now?

My homegirl Anna. Remember I have two bestfriends from highschool and both of them have gotten engaged this year.

And guess what my son told me? “Mama, daddy and [his girlfriend] are getting married. She’s going to be my new stepmommy.”

It shook me a little bit, but I was more relieved than anything. After I heard that news I wanted to talk to her. When I speak to my sons they always ask me if I want to talk to her. So when they asked me again I told them yeah but their dad shut it down saying, “She doesn’t need to speak to her.”

So yesterday I called to speak to my sons and she answered the phone.

It was my first time ever hearing her voice over the phone and it surprised me but I figured now I had my chance to get some stuff off my chest.

“Hello,” she said.

“Hello, umm…I’m looking for my Boo Boo’s.”

“They’re taking a nap right now. May I take a message?”

I laugh. Is she serious?

“Look,” I begin. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”

There’s silence on the other end of the phone so I continue.

“I know we have not had much of a chance to interact with each other and it’s probably my fault because I guess I was feeling a lot of bitterness and I was upset because of everything that went down with me and their dad and how hard it was to take care of the boys by myself. I wanna apologize for that and I wanna say that I really appreciate how well you take care of my boys. I can be up here and I don’t have to worry about my boys because I know how much their dad loves them and I know that he won’t have anyone around them who won’t treat them right. Thankyou for being so good to my boys,” I say and I can feel myself begin to cry. “I miss them so much but I know that they are being well taken care of and I want to thankyou for that.”

“Hey, you don’t have to worry about your sons. I know they miss you. They talk about you everyday and I know they can’t wait to see you.”

“You have a good day okay?”

“You too.”

I’m glad I got a chance to say that.

I don’t know what’s going on with me but I’m constantly fighting demons and any chance I get to try to make peace I will do so. So now that that’s done, I have to get over this thing with men. It’s gotten so bad that I can’t have fun when men are around. Sure, I can have casual conversation and even flirt a little bit but the minute a man wants my number or wants to hear about my past I clam up. I can’t do it. I guess I’m afraid that after getting to know me he will see what all the other men in my past have seen and decide he wants to run away.

It’s not just romantically. I feel the same fear when it comes to my friend’s fiances. Because I wasn’t there when either of them met these guys I guess it makes me nervous that maybe they will see me as a nuisance and maybe even come in between me and my homegirls. My friends are important to me. I can’t say I’m as happy as I should be because I am being selfish right now and I’m used to being the tag along with my friends and their boyfriends. I’m cool with that as long as the men are cool with me but what if they aren’t?

What if they turn out just like the rest of the men in the world? And what’s worse, what if they treat my friends like the rest of the men in the world and I have to get stupid on them?

This can’t be of God. This is fear and fear is not of God.

I don’t know what it will take for me to get over this but I’m open. I’m prayerful and I’m open to healing in this area. I don’t want to hate men. I don’t want to turn into a lesbian.

All I really want is to be happy and to see my friends happy.

God, can you hear me? I don’t want this hate/fear in my heart anymore.

Late Night Barbecues

I’m in the grocery store looking at cards to send to my sons and I find one that brings tears to my eyes. It reads:

I wish I may
I wish I might
Have you here
To hug all night


I really need a hug. I miss my sons. I try to look at it as though they need this time with their dad. They are having so much fun with him that I don’t feel too bad, I just wish…

I wish I could be a better mom for them. My track record isn’t so great with handling jobs but I keep on trying…

While I’m in the grocery store I notice that a guy is looking at me. I roll my eyes as I pass him because I’m on the phone with Kim and I’m not the least bit interested in talking to any men.

By the time I’m done picking up my clothes detergent, Publix sub sandwhich, sweet tea and turkey slices I get in line and guess who is behind me? The guy.

He’s with another guy and a chick.

He spies the twix I picked up from the counter.

“Eating all of that candy isn’t good for your teeth,” he says to me.

I roll my eyes. “I can eat what I want,” I say. “It’s a treat. I deserve it.”

“Well maybe you do,” He says and extends his hand. “Hi, what’s your name? I’m Ty.”

I shake his hand firmly and look away.

“Why are you buying this food when you could come to my house tonight? We’re having a barbecue?”

“Tonight?” I ask him and eye his basket. I see chicken and hamburgers and hot dogs. Mmmm….

“We live just down the street. Come and get some food.”

Hmmmm….I was just praying that I get a home cooked meal that I don’t have to cook. Living the single life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I eat out a lot and when I’m home I eat cereal or sandwhiches or hotdogs. Yeah…I’m lazy.

I call his phone from my phone so he can get the number. He seems very polite and I get a good vibe from him. He has no idea that he’s the first man I’ve given my number to since I’ve been here.

I go home and unpack my groceries, planning to turn in early. He calls within 15 minutes.

“Hey Tee,” he greets me.

We chat a bit. He tells me that he just came back from out of town.

“Why did you go out of town?”I ask him.

He pauses and asks, “Are you the police?”

“No,” I say and shake my head. Thuggish.

“You ready to come over?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know you like that and I don’t want to come by myself. Let me call you back.”

I call Vicky but she’s busy so I figure I’m not going. I call him back to tell him and he tries to persuade me to come. “Do you need me to call my Mama so she can tell you that I’m a nice guy and you should come to my barbecue?”

I laugh..”Yeah, do that.”

He clicks over and calls his Mama.

I laugh.

Ok, I’ll go. I’m hungry man.

I stop by the gas station and pick up a 6-pack fo Corona before I head over there. IT’s easy to find and it’s a beautiful home. As soon as I walk in I smile. THIS is the kind of place I can imagine my sons and I living in. I can’t WAIT to get things together…

I meet his friends and I’m impressed. The women are really nice. The men are too. We go outside on the patio and talk a bit. For the first time I look at him. Hmmm…White tee. Air Force ones. Kinda on the thin side. Pitch black. He reminds me of someone. Hmm..He reminds me of Joe.

Wow. He looks just like Joe.

That’s a good thing and a bad thing.

He seems very sweet as he grills up all of the food, while trying to catch a few plays of the football game and still entertain his friends. His Mama calls and he spends time talking to her as if they are buddies.

“I love you Mama,” he says before he hangs up. I smile.

“So tell me something,” he asks. “And stop me if I’m being too forward but…since you just moved up here, when you get lonely, do you curl up on the couch and call your dude back in Miami?”

Ahhh..He wants to know if I have a boyfriend.

I pause considering the answer I want to give him.

“Something like that,” I say.

“I figured,” he says.

His friends sit down to get on some spades after we eat the most delectable food I have eaten in weeks. But um…am I the only black person in America who doesn’t know how to play spades?

I stand behind his chair and watch him play. His friends are hilarious. I make sure not to get too close to him because I don’t want him to try me too hard but I do feel comfortable around him. He does seem like a genuine person. But they ALL seem genuine at first.

“Excuse me if I get too bold,” he tells me as he stands and attempts to grab me by the waist. “I’m very affectionate.”

I roll my eyes as my body tenses. Please let him back away. I’m scared.

“Could you massage my neck?” he asks me once he sits down again, since I’m standing over him.


“Why not?’

“Cuz I don’t want you to get used to it.”

“Damn. Its like that? Just this once?”

I roll my eyes. “No.” I say firmly.

He smiles up at me. “You’re above the influence.”

I laugh. I’ve made up my mind about him already. He’s definately booty call material but he’s not boyfriend material. But do I even want to go that route again? He seems to need a little direction in his life. All my life I’ve been motivating men. I’m not sure if I want to do it again.

I make sure that I don’t give this man any indication that I desire his advances. I’m actually being kinda stank wit’ it. He is still being sweet to me. It’s after midnight and I signal that I’m ready to go. He walks me to my car and I’m nervous as hell cuz he’s standing too close.

“Let me give you a hug,” he asks. I let him bring his body close to mine and he gives me a long squeeze. I’m in turmoil. I like it. A lot. I miss the feeling of a man’s arms around me. I need this hug. I almost cry because I realize how much I needed this touch.

The physical touch is so very important. We’re human. We were all made to relate and touch is the most powerful form on interaction. Touches heal. Touches speak more than words. It’s been a minute since I have been touched in this way.

“When can I see you again?” he whispers in my ear. My body immediately tenses up and I realize that I’m not even hugging him back.

I don’t respond. “When can I see you again?” he repeats himself.

I pull away from him and frown. “I don’t know,” I say and open my car door. He closes it behind me and smiles repeating the directions to find my way out of his subdivision.

“Call me tomorrow,” he calls out.

“Whatever!” I say and then gulp because I realize that I said it loudly. He turns around. “Why did you say that?” he asks me.”You’re not gonna call?”

I shrug. “Leave me alone I’m tired.” I say and wave as I drive off.

As I drive home I think about him. It would be nice to have a guy friend in this city. He loves to cook. His friends say he loves to clean. I don’t know man. He’s too much like my type. That’s not a good thing. My type of men don’t turn out to be good for me.

Hmm…Ok, this is it. If he calls me again, I’ll go hang with him and his friends. All of them were cool. But I won’t call him no matter what.

I take his number out of my phone as I unlock my front door.

It’s all in his hands.

Breaking Out of My Shell

He hasn’t called me back.


Well ofcourse I didn’t expect him to but I promise with the next man I meet I won’t be so harsh. ~smile~

Last night I went to Tamara’s house to kick it with her fiance and his family and finally learn how to play spades. Since everyone seems to play why not join, it’s can’t hurt me. ~shrugs~

Tamara took her time teaching me the rules and what to look for and then she made the mistake of inviting the tenderoni Byron and her fiance AJ to play with us.

Why did these fools commence to acting like pure idiots throughout the game?!! LOL! They were shit talking and even BARKING at me throughout the whole game. They scared the hell out of me! LOL!

I’m not a shit talker. I don’t know how to make fun of people (unless we’re really close) and I was actually very intimidated by the situation. I’m beginning to recognize to what depths my social skills have plummeted.

I’m a homegirl by nature. Even when I was a little girl, I never went outside. I never got to know any of the drug dealers on my block or hung out with any of the chicks from round the way. I became a lot more social when I went away to college and it took little to no effort because I always involved myself in activities that I was passionate about. When you seek out these activities you’ll automatically meet people who are passionate about the same things and you won’t have to search for a common ground. Or you can just start smoking weed and you’ll always have friends no matter where you go.

But then I got a boyfriend and I allowed his perception of me to become more important than my perception of myself and I shrank into this pitiful mess of a woman who didn’t even want to go out anymore. Having my children early didn’t help either. My warped mind told me that I had to be devoted to them and my fun time was over.

Then I discovered the internet and that became my social outlet. I must admit it’s been years and years of fun times, lots of internet boyfriends and plenty of online drama. But anyone with any sense knows that the internet world is not real. Your whole social life can’t revolve around a computer. These people you meet are creating images for themselves online. They are creating personalities that they WISH they had in person.

Yeah, it’s fun but…you have to log off sometime. You are going to have to interact with people face to face sometime. And I’m just becoming more aware of that. So I’m challenging myself to participate in more social activities. I’m REALLY challenging myself to be around men and not expect them to try to hurt me.

I’m workin on it.

I am.

And the cool thing is, through Tamara’s fiance AJ, I’m learning that there are men out there who can love a woman and be affectionate and try to give you the world.

AJ said to me one night when we were both out on his patio relaxing, “Being with Tam is like having everything going great in your life and then you look down and find a $100 bill on the ground. You feel so damn lucky! I feel like that everyday I wake up next to her. There ain’t too many men who will find a woman like her and I know that so I had to lock her down.”

I was like, “Is he serious?”

I’ll admit I was a bit taken back by that statement. But each time I’m around them I can see that he’s genuine. I can see that he goes above and beyond to make sure that she is taken care of and he really does love her. He’s a man and he’s not abusing her or using her. Who would have thunk it?

Damn…being here has exposed me to so many great people. I can’t wait to see what happens next.

Damn…I’m hungry

I need to make me something to eat.

But on the real…Each weekend is more fun than the previous. I sit and ask myself, “Is this my life for real?” It seems like someone else’s life to me.

How did I end up here having way too much fun working in my actual desired career, living it up socializing with amazing people and looking damn good in the meantime?

The power of God.

Last Friday I was so nervous because I set up a 2nd (phone) interview with Young Buck because my first one wasn’t good enough. During the first interview I was so scared that I would seem foolish that I asked some very elementary questions and none of them connected so it turned out that out of all the info I had, none of it would make a good story.

But this time I prepared. I sat down with one of the other writers on my team. He’s a Cancer like me and his writing is extremely engaging. The thing I respect the most about him is his ability to engage an interview subject. When we interview a popular subject, our purpose is to pull information from them that hasn’t been written before or hasn’t been exposed. While I had prepared random elementary questions for my first celebrity interview, my co-worker gave me a suggestion.

“When you interview someone you have to walk in there with your story already written in your mind. That way, you ask specific questions and you get specific answers by guiding them to say what you need them to say,” he told me. “What do you want him to say? What story hasn’t been told yet? It’s a good idea to try to get psychological when you’re talking to the subject. Get into their mind and get them to show us who they really are.”

As I prepared for my 2nd interview I considered his advice. In my first interview he mentioned that when he met the chicks on Flava of Love he thought they were too wild for his taste and he wouldn’t choose any of them. So I thought about that and I remembered that song he did, Shorty Wanna Ride Wit’ Me. I decided to delve into what he wants in his woman and if he believes that artists glorify a certain type of playa lifestyle when in reality they want something completely different.

I also wanted to touch on the topic of fatherhood and what it means to him since he grew up with a drug addicted father.


The interview went so well! We really connected during my 15 minute set and he even complimented me saying, “I’m feeling this whole conversation! I can’t wait to read what you write.” ~cheese~

He is not what I expected but I guess I should learn not to place my expectations on people based on their careers. He proudly told me that he takes care of his daughter and her mother completely even though the mother is with someone else. He says it doesn’t matter to him that the woman is not his anymore, what matters is the fact that when his daughter lays her head down at night she has a very nice place to rest that he provides- he says that helps him to sleep at night.

He also mentioned that his faith in Jesus is very important to him and that young men shouldn’t grow up neglecting that area or waiting until something bad happens to turn to the Lord.

Yeah….I was a little surprised too. Seems like someone has his head on straight.

And…he fine as hell…

He said he likes thick women ya’ll. Thick women who don’t wear weave or fake eyes or makeup or anything. He says he wants to recognize the woman he wakes up in the morning with.

Anyway…I’m so excited. I did a great job and got a compliment. Those are always nice. ~smile~

As for the rest of my job, man…it’s great to wake up everyday and go do something you love. The crux of what I do at the magazine is manage the other writers, encouraging them to fulfill their writing requirement. I give out assignments and fill the editorial calendar which means, every week I have to look at all of the stories the writers are turning in and choose the ones that will run in the magazine. Our magazine is 100% original content produced which means we only use original photos and original content. No AP stories or getty image pics. If the writers aren’t writing then we have no content.

It’s kinda interesting being the manager. I want to remain firm with the writers when I need something from them, but I don’t want to be a bitch. I’ve been told that I talk to them like they are 3. LOL! My publisher told me that because I have a way of explaining things to people that I must admit is kinda..uh….simple. That comes from dealing with my kids so much. I have to step it up.

Everyone is super helpful and I am learning so much from the other journalists, we call ourselves Scribes. There is only one woman on the team besides myself because the journalism field is dominated by men although you’d think things would be different since having a love for writing is sometimes seen as girly.

My publisher is amazing. I was in his office the other day and I noticed a few paintings leaning against his wall. They were vivid and full of bright colors much like the pieces Romero Britto produces. My mouth dropped open when I saw the signature.

“Um…Why is your name on these pictures?” I asked him.

He looked at me.

“Cuz I painted them.”

Not only did he build a publishing dream for the Black community, he is also an accomplished artist and he’s delving into television too. A week before I arrived he began building his team for his television show.

Very impressive.

And everyone is always making fun of him because he’s a bit eccentric, but they all give him much respect. The women who work for him WANT to work for him and there’s no craziness going on behind the scenes. He’s a giver, extremely generous and he is a Cancer too.

I’m learning a lot from him but I am sure to keep my distance because I don’t want it to turn into the same thing that developed between me and my former Pastor. I don’t want any man to recognize my potential and try to exploit it for their personal gain. I’m so eager to learn and to grow and show what I can do that it would be easy for a man to take notice of the fire inside me and want to be a part of that. But you can’t join yourself to everyone that blows your way.

I’m learning to be selective. Call me weird but I feel like the men I take seriously should be on another level. Sometimes It’s cool when my co workers flirt with me. It lets me know I still got it. But there’s something in my mind that won’t allow me to take them seriously. It puzzled me for a minute but then I realized what happened. I have raised my standards quite a bit.

Having a man with a stable income is a beautiful thing. But instead of going goo goo over the man who RECEIVES a steady check, I’d actually prefer the man who WRITES the checks.

Am I loony because I don’t feel like I don’t want to date anymore EMPLOYEES? If you don’t have CEO, COO or Owner/Founder behind your name I don’t get excited anymore.

I think it’s because I spend a lot of time interviewing these business owners. ~shrugs~

I don’t know ya’ll. I haven’t been on ONE date since I’ve been here and already I’m canceling men out. And by the way, the barbeque guy, whose name is Ty, called me back as soon as I finished writing the last post.


I’m very much attracted to him but..something is missing. He’s a nice guy though and he lives 5 minutes away from me. I’m sure we’ll hook up again just to kick it.


I’m off to lay around and watch TV until Flavor of Love comes on. Those chicks are crazy and I hope Delishis gets kicked off because she’s one hatin ass chick! They are ALL hating on Krazy because they all see her as a threat. Krazy is the closest thing to white on that show so I can already see her winning. ~smirk~

Alicia Keyes and India Arie. Who wins? Hoopz and New York. Who wins? Anybody notice a pattern?

I was very happy to see Terrance Howard play the villain in Idlewild. For once a light skinned Black man played the bad guy. Do you ever notice that in Black movies it’s always the dark skinned brother who is devilish? Think about all of Tyler Perry’s movies.

For once I’d like to see darkness overcome light.

So as strange as it may seem, I’m rooting for New York.


Game Over

Ty tried to hunch me tonight.


That is such a turn off.

Why are men like that? It pisses me off.

Sure, I wanted to hunch him too, just not tonight. It’s better when I am the aggressor. I feel more in control and I was feeling him a lot…just…not yet dude. I met him a week ago. What does he think I am?

I could tell he was gonna be good too. Tight black body. Beautiful lips. Strong hands. I bet he had a nice grip with those strong black hands.

~rolls eyes~

We were at his house chillin watching Flavor of Love, then we watched the Tupac Resurrection special. We talked a little bit and I told him that I wasn’t interested in having a friends with benefits.

He said, “I’m glad that you know what you want.” Then after a minute or two shit got crazy…I’m like…ahh…yeah…I like that. But in my head I’m thinking…what’s happening here? So I had to stop it. I jumped up and put on my shoes and waved goodbye as I rushed down the stairs to my car. I didn’t even look back.


He makes me sick. Too eager. Shoot..I’m not losing my Georgia virginity to him. ~fold arms~

I thought I wanted my booty rubbed, but when the opportunity presented itself…I flaked. I can’t believe it. All these nights alone feigning for someone to touch me and here it is..a nice chocolate brother..and…I don’t want to.

I didn’t want to…I want…I want more than that.

So fuck it…I’ll be alone dammit.

Stupid men. All they wanna do is hunch. And if you don’t wanna hunch then they automatically try to say you are gay. Idiots.


The Scribe Life


I just woke up. I didn’t mean to fall asleep but…hey, it just happened. My phone woke me up and it was a co worker telling me that he lost his assignment and didn’t have any information about the event he was supposed to cover in the morning.

“Assignment dismissed,” I told him. “Now go get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Last night I hung out with another one of my co workers. He’s my age and his dream is to become a screen writer. He shared with me about his troubled past where he had so many BS jobs and how grateful he is to be working toward his dream.

“Winter 2003,” he told me as we huddled around a dimly lit candle and allowed the mellow sounds of Stevie Wonder to relax us after a very long day. “That winter was the worst ever. My car broke down and I had no money to get another one. The love of my life called me and told me she was getting married. I got fired from my job, evicted from my apartment and I lived in a hotel for a while trying to make ends meet.”

I shook my head in amazement.

“But look at my life now,” he continued. “Last week I was staying in a hotel on Park Avenue in New York interviewing Jet Li. I saw Leo Dicaprio in my hotel, man. I was sitting there amazed at how much my life has turned around. And I’m making it by using my talent. Shit…that’s amazing to me.”

We’re both grateful and the feeling is widespread around our office. I’ve been told many times that the people who write for our magazine move on to bigger magz like Essence and, Vibe and Black Voices. All the same mags I tried to freelance for but rejected me.

“Don’t worry,” my editor told me one day as we flipped through magazines and I showed her the ones who had rejected me. “You’re a much better writer than most of those magazines have. With your style, you’ll probably end up at Essence sooner or later. Those other mags just weren’t a part of your destiny.”

Although I’ve been at the magazine for over a month, it just hit me..I feel like I’ve found home.

Although people are people everywhere and ofcourse their will be little squabbles every now and then, for the most part we have a good team and we all have to depend on each other to do our jobs.

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

If the writers don’t write their stories, I can’t fill the editorial calendar. If I can’t fill the editorial calendar, the copy editors can’t edit them and forward them on to the graphics team for layout. The graphics team can’t work with me to make sure all of the photos are correct and that the important stories are run in a timely manner if the process doesn’t start correctly.

We have a little more than a handful of writers who work tirelessly day and night to produce. The single men have it the hardest because they can be called at any time day or night to hop on a plane and fly all over the country on assignment and this can happen once or twice a week. This seems glamorous at first thought but the reality is they are staying in great hotels and meeting celebrities and top business people across the country but they also have to come back from each trip with at least 10 stories for each day they were out of town. There’s no room for being star struck or lazy.

So that means instead of enjoying the comraderie of women’s business leadership conference, we have to bombard the business leaders to get interviews and photos. Instead of enjoying the exciting atmosphere of NFL games we have to be fierce in interviewing as many players, officials and fans as we can in order to meet our requirements.

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

“I’m getting a tatto on my stomache that says ‘Scribe Life’ one of my male co workers announced yesterday.”

We all laughed.

They are always having some wild conversation like, ‘Which movies or shows with Black characters were originally intended to be played by whites?’ after a discussion about how the 9/11 movie’s lead hero was played by a white man when the real hero was Black.

“Martin!” My fellow Cancer scribe shouted out. “That was originally a white show but we persevered.”

“Amistad!” Another co worker announced. “That was supposed to be a story about white slaves but they changed it to hold the Black man down.”

They LOVE to place bets on album debuts and their record sales. When Outkast dropped their new album their was an $85 pot for the person who guessed the closest number to their opening week recorded sales.

We clown a lot and they tease each other just to start an office wide debate.

“Dark skinned Black women can’t succeed in America!”

“Everybody knows that God is a white man.”

“You’ve only seen the Color Purple ONCE?! You ain’t Black!”

One of our scribes had a phone interview with Jaleel White (Urkel) today. When he got off of the phone he said, “That man is PISSED that everybody thinks he’s dead.”

When breakthrough artists stop by the office to be interviewed and have their pictures taken, one of our scribes loves to make them stop by the editorial office and sing a song for us. LOL!


Remember when this year started I was feeling like this would be my year? Remember when I got the restraining order against my children’s father because I couldn’t take his abuse anymore? Remember when I got my first feature story published in the Miami Herald? Remember when I finished my first bio for Trick Daddy’s new group, The Dunk Ryders? Remember when I left the security of my cushy job at the private school to chase my dreams and ended up losing my job after only two months?


Life got hectic. I was in the hospital on my birthday. I prayed everyday for a breakthrough but my kids never went hungry.

I came up here hoping for an administrative job but happened to find a magazine that I thought was cool and they offered me a job on the spot.

I really didn’t know how I could ever be in a position to go after my dreams because I felt like I had to give up on them in order to be a good mother to my kids.

I didn’t.

I didn’t.

God has rewarded my obedience to Him by giving me the desires of my heart even though I messed up time and time again.

I may be flaky but I know the SOURCE of my success and happiness.

I know who truly loves me and guides me when I can’t find my way.

I’m grateful God and you know my heart. You have led me to a well of opportunity and young journalists who are hungry like me and respect me enough to receive correction from me. I learn so much from them. Their vibrancy is contagious and I can’t wait to see the day when each of us joins the panels of professionals we admire instead of writing about them.

It’s gonna happen.

We are all well on our way

God bless our publisher for giving us all our first chance and God bless us for daring to dream and take action.