Got Me Workin..Workin Day & Night

What have I been up to?


10-12 hour days and attending all kinds of events and you KNOW I’m antisocial so it’s been rough having to meet all of these people and smile and shake hands and all that.

Last week I went to the Morehouse Homecoming concert which featured Nas & Kelis. It was crazy! Our staff didn’t meet any of our goals (one being a one on one interview with Nas) because the publicists weren’t responding to our requests and the security kept the press on lockdown. We couldn’t even leave the media pit to go to the bathroom!

But I got a few good shots of Nas & Kelis, including one of him with his hands on her butt.

This weekend I got all dressed up (you know I ain’t want to), to attend Jermain Dupri’s Halloween Party. The invitation was so funny, it read: Due to limited space at the site of the party, all invited guests are asked to meet at the Suntrust Bank and will take a shuttle to the exclusive party location.

The party was blah. The food was good. If there were celebrities there I didn’t recognize any of them. Well…except for Da Brat. I was walking up to the bar to get me another free DRANK, and I saw this chick. I squinted my eyes and looked at her. “You look familiar,” I said to her. She just smiled at me as I walked away.

Guess what costume I wore?

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Yes, your girl was a red devil.

I got all kinds of comments like, “If you’re the devil, then I’m a sinner. Take me to hell with you!”

I was ready to go after an hour but I was driving and I was trying to be courteous to my co workers so I waited a little longer.

Ya’ll ain’t ready for my work update. Seems like all Black business leaders must go to the same school of ‘beat your employees down to keep them around’ because I’ve learned that my publisher’s brand of motivation resembles the same type of motivation my baby daddy used to give me. The same type my stepfather used to give me and the same type my old pastor used to give me. He has the same leadership style as my old publisher from the newspaper in Miami. ~shakes head~ Nothing but criticism and consistent expression of dissappointment with your progress.

This time I recognized it early so I’m trying to decide what I’m going to do. Can I really withstand an environment like that again? I’m a sensitive person and there’s only so much, ‘you aren’t good enough’ I can take before I snap.

Pray for me ya’ll because it seems like my editor has it in for me too. I guess I could be paranoid but when I am constantly being told that I’m not doing this right or that right even when I consistently ask for feedback and instruction so I can get it right, it’s disheartening to know that all of your best effort is being shit on.

Oh well…I have to stay focused and I know that this is not the end of my journey. Their motivational/abusive tactics won’t deter me from becoming the professional journalist that I want to be.

I have to tell myself that I’m working my ass off and if they don’t appreciate it, another company will. It’s not the end of the road for me.

Behind The Magazine

I love, love, LOVE my job!


It turns me on so much!

Let me tell you how a typical workday goes for me.

I arrive at work an hour before the staff writers do so I can get my head together and go through my daily reports. The daily reports consist of a list of stories that each writer has completed and has dropped in the editorial production folder for me to review and move to copy editing.

I copy each of their daily reports and make a comprehensive daily report to send to my publisher, my editor and the CEO. This allows them to gauge the staff progress and keep an eye on the stories that we are about to run.

After I send out that report I review their individual lists of incompleted stories and I mark which stories I want them to work on for the day making sure that the stories I assign are consistent with the holes I have in my upcoming editorial calendars. The editorial calendar is a spreadsheet that I have to make that lists all of the stories that will run in each issue and since our magazine is national with local content for the major markets, I have to make sure that the local stories are placed in the right cities. It’s a little complicated but I love the details so it’s exciting to me.

After I meet with each of the writers and give them their assignments, I add their assignments to a running spreadsheet that I keep for future reference in case someone asks if a particular story has been run and who wrote it.

Once I’m through with all that, I scour the editorial production folder on my computer and review the stories and choose which ones I want to place on the calendar. I then move the story to the copy editing folder so the first copy editor can edit it and send to the 2nd copy editor who edits it again and they place it in another folder for the graphics department to grab and place in the layout. After the graphics people do that, it goes to copy editing again for a final read through.

I can spend hours filling the calendar and passing along my spreadsheet to the graphics team so that they can add pictures. Once I’m done with the calendar, I have to work with copy editing and graphics to make sure that all of the stories are in with the corresponding photos. This process lasts for a couple of days because sometimes pictures are missing and we have to create new ones or the copy editor rejects the story and we have to request a rewrite.

So all day long I’m marching up and down the corridor, checking up on writers and graphics to see if they need anything from me. In between all of that I’m fielding calls from publicists who want their artist or business covered. I listen to their pitch and decide if it’s something we are interested in writing about. If it is, I will assign the story to the writer who I feel will best connect with the topic (or who is available to do the interview).


It’s beautiful because if the publisher and editor leaves me alone, I can ride my management high all day as I watch as magazine after magazine is put together from start to finish. It’s a beautiful sight! On Thursdays, the new magazine (which we call a ‘book’) comes out and everyone reviews the magazine looking for mistakes and to read each other’s stories and offer words of appreciation.

Man…Most people go to college and have to figure out what they want to be, changing majors at least once during their process. When I got to college, I looked at my choices within the journalism major and I didn’t hesitate to elect magazine journalism as my concentration. I’m so glad I did. I love what I do everyday. I smile when I walk through the front doors.

Although my publisher frustrates me and I believe it is my own paranoia that makes me defensive when he instructs me because I believe all men are out to tear me down, I really listen to everything he has to say and I breathe it in and try to implement it into my daily thought process. I’m learning so much from him and though my feelings get hurt in the process because he always has a word of instruction/correction, I know it’s for my own good and I will become a better content manager which will eventually make me a better managing editor one day.


Lord, I know I chose the perfect career… Give me strength to endure the criticism as I focus on my goal of becoming an editor within the next two years.

I can not BELIEVE my life!

I’m blowed.

He Will Do It

One of my favorite blessings is when my homegirl Anna calls me during her break from teaching in Orlando.

“Girl, let me take my lunchbreak right now so I can talk to YOU!” I squeal into the phone while gathering my purse and car keys.

By the time I make it to my chill out spot in the parking lot of Wendy’s and lean my seat back for some much needed downtime, Anna and I are deep into conversation about the obstacles we are facing as professionals and the appreciation we have for each other and our other friends.

Today I brought up the subject of how as friends we are good for each other because we anticipate each other’s needs and have no problem meeting them if we can. We are always thinking of each other and if we are out shopping and we see something that would delight the other person, we pick it up just as though we are picking up something for ourselves. I then told her about another friend of mine who had been hinting to her boyfriend that she needed a few things but he had yet to take care of them although he is well capable of doing so.

“See!” she said, raising her voice two octaves. “Now, I’m not saying that my relationship with my fiance isn’t perfect but I love him because he takes care of me like he takes care of himself. I was on the phone with him one night and I mentioned that I would have to pay one of my bills late and that it would cost me an extra $15. Girl! Three days later I opened my mailbox and he had sent me three signed blank checks.”

“WHATTTT!!!!!!!!!!” I scream! “Oh my gosh! That’s what I’m talking about! That’s a provider! That’s an unselfish person. I’m so happy to hear that girl!”

As I continue to work things out in my career and hope for the one thing that has eluded me for almost of my life; true love, I know that it will happen one day because God makes all of my dreams come true. If He has positioned me to accomplish my goals so far and gifted me with the ability to be a stunner in everything that I do, then I KNOW that it’s not too farfetched to hope for a romantic relationship that is a replica of the relationships that I have with my friends.

The women that I am surrounded by are selfless, hardworking, creative and trustworthy. They KNOW me and they know my flaws and they love me anyway. In fact, they have to remind me that the characteristics that I consider to be flaws are the things they love most about me.

I had an interesting conversation with a chick I met this weekend. She was telling me the story about how she met her soulmate and she said, “You’ll know it’s him, when you see that- all those things you always thought were so fucked up about you- he’ll adore those things and he’ll encourage them and tell you all the time that he loves those things the most.”

“It will happen,” she said. “Because I never believed that it could happen to me, but it did and all I had to do was hold out and wait on God. I sacrificed my sex life for over a year and promised God that I would wait until He presented him to me and He did and now we’re a family. It happens.”

It happens.

It will happen.

Just like God carried you this far and continues to guide you toward your most amazing destiny, there are no exceptions to the scope of His love for you.

You will have what you most desire if it honors Him.

Just keep Him first, stay prayerful and believe in a love that is more powerful than any love you’ve ever experienced.

He wants to bless you.

And He will.

3 Confessions

I write on my blog as though I’m talking to my bestfriends, but I must admit, I do keep some things personal, a girl can’t reveal it all. But I trust you. I know you can keep a secret so I have three confessions to reveal that even some of closest friends don’t know. Here goes…

Confession # 1- I lost my Georgia virginity.

I met him at a club a few weeks ago. I was dead set against meeting anyone when I stepped inside and I made sure to give off the “don’t f**k with me” vibe. While following my entourage of women through the club I bumped into this man, looked up to say Excuse me and he smiled and grabbed my hand.

“Do I know you?” I asked him.
“No, but I want to know you.”

I laughed and kept walking, brushing him off. My gaggle of women paused suddenly, only a few feet away from where he was standing but out of his line of vision. Hmm. He was kinda cute. I like his glasses. He’s short too. Had a nice smile. “I think I’ll go talk to him,” I decided. But my feet didn’t move, although I willed them to take a step.

Ahh.. Forget it. I don’t want to talk to any men anyway. Vicky bought the first round of drinks, I bought the second. By my second glass I was all happy and smiling and I see him about to walk pass. Ofcourse he stops to say Hi again.

“You running away from me again?” he whispers into my ear.
“No, I’m not. What’s up with you?” I ask and smile coyly. I love to play the little innocent girl role. It’s so much fun.

We have a great conversation. Well, as good as it can get when you’re trying to talk to someone over banging music. The pulsating crowd keeps pushing us closer and closer together while he whispers compliments in my ear and places a firm hand on the small of my back.

“Yeah. He can get it,” I decide. I don’t have much to go on except the fierce sexual tension that has connected us. I spend the rest of the night laughing with him and at him because we are both clearly toasted.

“So. are you creative?” I ask him.
“Do you do anything creative like writing or music or entrepreneurship?”
He laughs, “Naw. I work for Bellsouth. The best I can do is fix your phone line.”

We giggle for the rest of the night, our bodies touching occasionally, sending a wave of heat to all the right spots.

I feel a tap on my shoulder. “Girl, we’re ready to go.” I turn around and it’s Vicky.

“Dude, gimme a minute,” I tell her and turn back to my new friend, Mr. Telephone Man. We laugh some more and before I know it, Vicky is tapping me on the shoulder again. “We gotta go girl.”

Damn…I roll my eyes.

“Look, they’re ready to leave. I have to go.”

“No you don’t, you can leave with me,” he says and grins.

“I’m sure you’d like that, but it’s not gonna happen,” I say and begin to walk away. He pulls me back.

“Can I call you sometime?”

“Sure can,” I whisper as he pulls out his Blackberry and inputs my cell number- 786-XXX-XXXX”

I leave without looking back and we’re on our way to eat. We’re standing in line in the restaurant called Beautiful when I turn around and I’m surprised to see Mr. Telephone Man walk in with his friends.

After I pay for my food, I walk by him, stop and smile. His friends are looking at me and so are my friends. Everyone saw us glued together in the club so they start making fun of us. “Must be true love! Twice in one night!”

We giggle our drunk laughs as he motions with his phone toward me, “I’m gonna call you.”

“You better,” I say, giggle and walk away.

He calls me the very next day. “I just woke up from last night and the first thought on my mind was you.”


“Yeah, I know all about the 3 day call rule, but you were so special I had to break it.”

I laugh.

“What are you doing today?”

“Writing and I’m gonna watch The Flavor of Love tonight. It’s the finale.”

“Why don’t we watch it together? I can pick up something to eat if you want to come over.”

“Hmm…I guess. Let me call you back when I’m done with my stories.”

I call him back later in the evening and he gives me directions to his house. I get there just in time for the show to begin and thank God he is still as cute as he was when I met him. We have a great time and by the end of the night, he’s rubbing my arm and I don’t even mind. I allow him to hug me close and the affection feels so good that I melt. Damn. I really needed that touch.

Before things get too crazy, I stand up and announce that I’m about to leave. He smiles and walks me to my car. “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he tells me.

I feel like Monica. I wanna get down, but not the first night.

He calls me the next evening like clockwork and we chat but I have more writing to do so I don’t go see him.

The third day I call him and we meet up at his place to watch a movie, I bring dinner this time.

The next day he calls me and he grabs dinner when I come through.

“You wanna smoke?” he asks me.

“That sounds fun,” I reply and stretch, tired from my long day.

“Well, let’s go upstairs and smoke in my room.”

~raises eyebrow~


He’s skinny. That’s so weird to me. I’m not the thickest chick but it’s funny to me when I meet men who are smaller than I am. I’m laying up with him in his bed while he tells me about growing up as an only child and how his mother and grandmother used to spoil him. I’m listening..but honestly I’m thinking about Dell. I’m wishing it was him I was chilling with. I shake the thought out of my head. Before I know it, he places his arm around me and pulls me closer, planting tiny kisses on my neck.

“I like that,” I whisper.
“You’ll like this even better,” he says and picks me up and places me on top of him so that we’re both sitting up face to face. He kisses me and I kiss him back. Alright Tee, let’s get it!

I back away and tug at his shirt. He smiles at me, removes his shirt and my hands fumble at his belt buckle.

He jumps up and goes into his dresser drawer and after a little searching I can see the gold foil wrappers shining from the light that is streaming in from the window.

Sorry… No HOB. But I must say Dude laid it DOWN DMX in Belly style! Afterwards I lay there like a rag doll, just cheesing. Oil change complete. He heads to the bathroom to get a towel to wipe himself off. He’s literally dripping wet with sweat from head to toe. He smacks my leg before he leaves the room, “That’s what you been missing out on, calling yourself trying to wait.”

When he returns we lay back in silence. Both of us are smiling and I decide that he is well capable of becoming my winter friend. He likes doing the same things I like to do and his schedule is clear after 5pm so he’ll never tell me he’s too busy to see me. Plus, he has a cozy townhouse in the West End, just a few minutes away from my job.

“Is that how you get down all the time?” I ask him, amazed.
“Every time,” he replies and looks at me. “I’m like 50 [cent]. I got the magic stick. If I can hit it once, I can hit it twice.”

I laugh. We head down to the kitchen for some water and I eat the rest of my food. We’re back up in his bed when he looks at me.

“I know you want some more.” he says and I laugh.
“Sure do.”
“Round two,” he says and repositions himself.

This time things don’t go like clockwork. I can’t get there…I need a little more foreplay because I’m not as aroused as I was before.

“Hollup…Why don’t you try (censored) that will help me become more aroused,” I tell him. I can see him roll his eyes and he gives me like 30 seconds of what I asked for.

“Um…I’m still not there,” I tell him. “Why don’t you try that again. I’m not into it yet.”

“SO!” he says in an angry tone which surprises the hell out of me. He gets off of me and moves onto the other side of the bed. “You know what? You’re selfish!” he tells me and folds his arms. I’m sitting there dumbfounded by his bratty behaviour.


“You heard me! It’s not all about you. Why do I have to stop because you’re not into it?”

Hell naw! I jump up, put on my clothes and race down the stairs. He follows me and I open the door, expecting an apology or something. He doesn’t say a word. He simply closes the door behind me.

I’m livid as I start my car. Before I even get home I have already erased his number from my phone.

I haven’t heard from him since.

~shakes head~

Look at what happens when I try to get some…Man…Well, at least I’ll be straight for a few more months. I can’t believe his ass!

Confession #2- I met a girl

I met this chick when I first got here. We exchanged numbers on this friend tip but I could tell there was this weird vibe. We would keep in touch mainly through email, telling each other about our personal lives, our kids and our goals. I admitted that a lot of people think I’m bisexual because of my haircut and she said that she’s bisexual and she thinks I’m cute. Hmmm….

While I have always appreciated the beauty of a woman and I’ve had my experimental experience in college, I’ve never met a chick who I thought was so bad that I wanted to actually make a move on her, though I’ve wondered what it would be like to really be with a woman.

Since this chick was game, I decided to try it and see. My fear was that I would like it so much that I would never go back to men, seeing as how I have a fear on intimacy with men anyway. We met up for lunch Downtown and we ate lovely and laughed all afternoon, just like two regular girlfriends. Afterward she suggested we go back to her place to watch a movie. We ended up watching two movies and then it was getting late, but the wine bottle we had finished wouldn’t allow me to drive just yet.

I lay back on the bed and got comfortable as we chatted and watched MTV. I could tell that I was dozing off and I was startled when I felt a hand rub my leg. I jumped 6 feet in the air and sat straight up!

She laughed. “Why you actin like that?” she asked me and shrugged. “Um..What are you here for?”

“To chill!” I reply loudly. I’m suddenly afraid. Very afraid. I don’t really want to do this. She’s bigger than me. I can’t drive home. What if she beats me up?

“What if I took all of my clothes off right now and climbed under the covers?” she asks me.

“By the time you do that, I’ll already be asleep. Can you handle that?” I ask firmly, hoping she gets the point.

She looks at me, turns over and I hear her snoring after a few minutes. I look over at her sleeping, her hair all wild on the pillow.

I wrinkle my nose. Am I in the bed with a girl? Eww………………..This is sooooo………….gay.

I ain’t gay. I don’t want this chick to touch me. The flirting was fun but I’m not ready for all of this.

I make it through the night untouched and I quickly gather my things and head out quickly.

When I get home I’m relieved but I have my answer. I stil find women attractive but…I don’t want to touch them and I don’t want them touching me.

Now I know….

Confession #3- I’m Addicted to Love & Dell

I was reading this chick’s blog and I found it to be quite interesting. I scrolled through her entries and i found this link to a site for people who may be love addicts. I couldn’t even read through half of the list because I was convicted by the first few characteristics. Damn… Am I a love addict?How could I be when I have never really experienced real love? Maybe I’m addicted to the idea of love? Maybe my fear of never being good enough for someone to love has caused me to fixate on certain men when I KNOW they are emotionally unavailable to me.Case in point- Dell.I think about him all the time. Not all the time, ALL THE TIME. In fact, I don’t even see any other man. I still go out with some of the men I meet, but I do it just to get it out of the way. I do it with no expectations that I’ll like them at all, and it’s because of the standard that Dell has set. I compare everyone to him and no one has come near what I experience whenever we talk or hang out.I’d like to call it love, but it’s more of an infatuation. I’ve always been attracted to men that I have to motivate and educate and push toward their goals. Dell doesn’t need a damn thing from me. Dell doesn’t want a damn thing from me. He isn’t using me for my body, or for free meals or for womanly attention. He’ll be perfectly fine with or without me and that really turns me on.I can’t believe this man is not amazed by me like most of my groupies. He’s probably complimented me once and he only answers my calls half the time. He’s so opinionated and strong willed and so about his business. After I speak to him on the phone I just sit there in amazement and marinate on the conversation.I’m sure my friends are so tired of hearing me talk about him. I’m tired of talking about him too, but the thoughts that overwhelm my mind seem to escape so easily from my mouth. I wish I could just forget about him. I’ve deleted his number from my phone 5 times but I always put it back.~hangs head in shame~I feel like a love struck teenager again. I don’t know what to do. He’s so different from any man I’ve ever met. Two of my friends think it’s the old “you want what you can’t have” syndrome while Anna says that it’s only natural that I am extremely attracted to him because he embodies all of the qualities that I have always wanted in a man.I’m so goo goo over him that I even wrote about him in a column in last week’s magazine. The title of it is FIRST IMPRESSIONS.I’m such a dork. But at least I’m not afraid to admit it. Damn… I thought I’d feel better after releasing these confessions but now I just feel embarrassed…Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

It’s Not Them, It’s Me

On Thursday morning I woke up early to catch an 8am flight to Miami to visit my boys. Before I boarded the plane, I called Dell to say goodmorning and let him know that I was about to leave. Things have been going okay between us. He now answers most of my calls, or maybe I just can better gauge when it’s the best time to call him because he always seems happy to hear from me. We spend time together and I’m always a bundle of nerves. I try to remind myself to relax but for some reason I can’t. He’s a man and I expect that sooner or later he’s going to reject me, so my defense is to make it happen as soon as possible so I can breathe again.

I’m not trying to purposely push him away, I guess I’m just scared. So I run. I run away from men. But I’ll elaborate on that later.

As soon as my plane touched down in Miami and I stepped outside to be greeted by warm weather and Caribbean accents, I knew that I was back home. Marsha came to pick me up from the airport and we chatted all the way down to the rental car spot where I had reserved an Impala for the weekend. I didn’t like driving it though.

As soon as I sped away from the rental car spot, I raced up to my son’s first grade class to finally see him.

I waited in the classroom while the teacher picked them up for lunch and when I saw him run and hug me…I cried right there in front of everyone.`I cried and I hugged my baby while he packed up his school supplies.

“Mommy?” he asked matter of factly. “Do you have enough clothes for me to in Georgia so we can go?”

My heart broke.

I still don’t even have my own place in Georgia. I’m still going through growing pains at my job. I’m still unsure about a lot of things except…I miss my boys.

After I picked up my younger son we went to one of our favorite buffets and sat and talked. The best thing about my sons is they listen to me. I speak in simple terms but I don’t dumb down my vocabulary. When they don’t understand a word they stop me and ask me to explain it. After I do, they use it in a sentence and then they own the word.

My favorite place to talk to them (preach) is while we are driving. On route to South Beach for an afternoon sight seeing tour, I told my boys what was in my heart. I explained to them that Mommy is away right now, setting up things for their future and while I miss them everyday, their Daddy needs time with them too because he loves them just as much.

“We’re sharing,” I told them as they sat quietly in the backseat. Every once in a while I adjusted the mirrors to get a good look at them. “Your Daddy wants his time to live with you and love you. And Mommy needs this time to get her career together.”

“What’s a career?” my younger son asks.

“A career is more than a job and you know that all grown ups have to work to be able to live and pay for things. Some people have jobs, but some people are lucky enough to do what makes them happy and make money at the same time, that’s a career. What makes Mommy happy is working for magazines and writing and one day becoming a best selling author. Your Daddy had his time to get his career together so Mommy needs that time too. I promise you that I love you and I’m doing it all for you. Mommy’s in Georgia working. Nothing more. I wish I was here with you but I know we’ll be back together again. And I’m glad your Daddy is taking such good care of you. We’re going to be alright, boys. I just need some more time to get things going smoothly.”

They told me they understood, but did they really? They’re only 4 and 6 years old. All they know is, they miss their Mommy. I miss them too.

We had a great time hanging together everyday. I preach about success and life and they listen. We took the Duck Tour of South Beach and cruised by the multi million dollar homes on the man made islands of Biscayne Bay. When we passed Shaq’s house my sons got so excited as they caught a glimpse of the miniature statue of himself that he has on his dock.

“One day we’re gonna have a house like that,” I told my boys.

“Why?” my 4 year old asked me.

“Because Mommy expects nothing but the absolute best from life. I want us to live nicely and I’m working on that.”

On Saturday we spent the morning at the beach. They ran around and made sand cakes and played along the water’s edge while I got some sun. Ofcourse during my idle time, my thoughts turned to Dell and I called him up to say Hi. Ofcourse he was working but he took the time to take my call. I was surprised. Even more so when I arrived in Miami and I got a call from him asking if I had made it safely. He’s calling me during the day to–talk???


I didn’t even know how to respond. I’m used to giving to men and not getting anything in return. In fact I give too much so much so that they don’t feel like they have to give anything to me. They don’t.

By the time I spent time with my friends Marsha, Dianna and my aunts and uncles and made sure to spend the majority of my time with my sons I was exhausted.

I hopped back on the plane on my way back to Atlanta and when I arrived I was greeted by cold weather and a $42 parking ticket because I had to leave my car at the airport while I was gone.

As I drove home I cried again. I’m back. Back to business. This feels like an extended business trip. My time here in Atlanta is nothing more. I have no source of pleasure here. It’s just me…my wonderful job that comes with so many challenges…and then I’m in the house, alone.

No smiles, no hugs. No warmth. Just work and loneliness. No kids. No guyfriend. No affection. Just me and my black and milds. The couch and my cell phone.

I am in such a need of a genuine hug it’s ridiculous. Actually, I stole one from Marsha while I was down there. I took the boys by to see her and we sat on the couch and talked for a while. I reached over and wrapped my arms around her tightly and she gave me a big hig back. She let me cry and hold her for maybe 5 minutes while she rubbed my arms and whispered that things will work themselves out.

I feel like a nomad. No home. Searching for a place that will bring a smile to my face. Searching for approval and acceptance.

I guess my search needs to begin within myself. I have conditioned myself to believe that I am unworthy of love and any chance I get will ultimately end in ruin so I simply speed up the process.

I guess I figure that if I can get a man to tell me he doesn’t like me and why then I can rest. I feel comfort in that rejection, if that makes any sense.

Cuz what would I actually do if a man decided he liked me?

I was mean to Dell this weekend and he didn’t deserve it. I even walked out on him because I felt like he was rejecting me when he really wasn’t. I feel so embarrassed and ashamed. I called him back to apologize and he was like, “Okay.” But I don’t think I’ll call him again. He doesn’t need to be bothered with my insecurities. I’m sure he can find a much more stable woman.

Sometimes the realization of your dreams is way more frightening than the failures you meet along the way. I dared to take notice of a wonderful man and took a risk by letting him know that I like him. Instead of playing it cool and allowing things to develop, I had to force his hand at rejecting me and ended things hurtfully.

Yeah…Good Ol Ms. Tee.

You can always count on those kind of endings…

To be continued…

Missing Miami

Excuse me…I’ve been having internet issues. Coupled with the fact that I’m always so tired after work, that doesn’t make me a good blogger. But I’ve been writing stories in my head all week and today I hope to release a few of them.

Hmmm… Let’s start by recapping some of my favorite moments from my trip to Miami.

The Arrival
My plane touched down in the Ft. Lauderdale airport about 40 minutes late. As soon as I exited the plane I smiled at all of the Haitian people at the airport. I don’t know what it is but I have a strong affection for Haitian people. There’s a strong possibility that the majority of my female friends are Haitian. The tightest chicks I have met, with the best hearts just happen to be from the small island. I texted messaged Dianna: I see Haitian people, I must be in Miami. She texted me back: LOL! Welcome to Miami hoe!

As soon as I walked outside I grinned. Marsha was right on time picking me up and looking smashing as usual. We drive down I95 just chit chatting and catching up on the latest news with our careers and men. If you met Marsha you’d probably think she’s stuck up if you’re insecure.

She’s light brown like me but she has the body and the face of a model with long flowing hair that reaches the middle of her back even when she wears it in a ponytail. She has an immaculate taste in clothes. She’s a shop a holic and it shows. She’s Jamaican too, so there’s an island flavor to her which intimidates most men but I just laugh because she’s just as goofy as I am. Just because she looks like Barbie doesn’t mean she isn’t a real chick with real struggles and real hopes for her future. The thing I love most about Marsha is her heart. That’s why I asked her to be the god mother of my son. I know she’ll always be a great influence on both boys. And so far, she has not dissappointed me.

I couldn’t help but grin as we whizzed through traffic on the way to pick up my rental car. Palm Trees. Ahhhh…You know you’re back in Miami. Clear Blue skies. The warm sun kissing your skin. Man…I miss this so much. I miss knowing where I’m going and knowing if I really need to, I can stop by and visit a relative and their kids can play with my kids while we relax. I really miss the stability.

Rollin With The Homies
The best part about my weekend was the fact that I got to hang out with my boys every day. I scooped them up early from school and we went to the buffet on Biscayne off of 135th. Mmmm…My Boo Boo’s are so much more mature now. They correct my language which lets me know that they are more disciplined and becoming big boys now.

“Let’s go to the potty, boys.”
“No Mommy, my Daddy calls it the restroom.”

Their Daddy is doing a good job with them. Except it’s so funny that when I hear them playing if I closed my eyes I would think they were two little white boys.

“YEAH!” my 6 year old exclaimed after he watched the toy car his grandfather gave him climb up the door. “Wow! Awesome!”


My 4 year old allowed me to cuddle and snuggle with him. In fact, he demanded it. He’s very loving.

“Mama, is that a new shirt?”
I smile at him and rub his head. “Sure is.”
“Ooh. You look pretty Mama.”

One afternoon I was sitting with my Mama and I feel my son walk up behind me and the faint bristles of a brush touched my scalp. My baby was trying to brush my hair. He’s so loving and so sweet. He’s a Cancer too which means he is very emotional and passionate and I can’t wait to see what he does with those gifts.

My older son made me so proud. Remember that they started the school year while I was away so I had never met their teachers or their friends so it was quite a pleasant surprise to visit my 1st grader’s classroom and see his name on the board with an ‘A’ next to it. I looked around and saw his name under ‘teacher’s helper’. My baby is the board eraser. ~smile~

His two bottom teeth fell out a little while ago. I looked forward to making fun of him but when he smiled I could see that the replacement teeth were already coming in. I missed it.

I remind myself that this is not in vain. I did the best I could while I was down there and my sons are my chief motivating factor. I want them to learn from me that no matter how many crve balls you get in life, you can still come out on top. When i get my boys back, I want them to fall into luxury. They will walk into my door and fall straight into ~plush~.

From me they will learn to value a hard working woman and a woman who is honest and loyal to them. I cried when I hugged them goodbye. But I feel good knowing that the last time they saw me I was pushing my new car, this time they saw me I was looking extra pretty and was able to do nice activities with them and the next time they see me I’m going to be doing even better. They are going to be so proud of me.

Show Me What You Got Lil Mama
Come on, you know I didn’t go to Miami and not go out! Please…I had been feigning for some non ATL music for so long that I thought I would crawl into a closet next time I heard some damn snap music.

When I stopped by Marsha’s house for a quick visit we had such a great time chopping it up. My boys had been in her room and snagged a pair of sunglasses. They were fighting over them when I heard Marsha say, “Hold it!” The boys froze in their tracks. “No boys,” she said firmly as she pried them from their rigid fingers. “These are Fendi.”

I thought that I would die laughing.
I invited her to ome out with me and we set the departure time at 11pm. I dropped my boys off and intended to go take a nap but, I couldn’t resist stopping by the Carol Mart in Carol City to get myself a haircut. They don’t do it like they do it Miami.As I’m finishing up my haircut, the lights go out. I’m literally the last person to leave the entire FleaMarket. I’m glad Jonathon waited on me. As always he did a great job. I just wish he had time to tighten up my eyebrows but I’ve been getting better at doing that myself. But who really wants to do things for themselves? My laziness will employ millions one day. My desire to sit around and do nothing will feed families and strengthen the economy as whole cities are revitalized due to my extreme desire to be pampered and cared for. I’ll pay top dollar if you do it right. Take care of me and I’ll take care of you and that’s a promise.Oooh! I can’t wait to see how I’m going to do it!Oh, back to Marsha. So after my haircut I go to my Mama’s house because she is supposed to be having her sisters and brothers over for some homemade sauce and drinks to celebrate her birthday. I love drinking with my aunties and uncles and cousins! Man, it’s so safe. ~smile~ We had such a great time that I had to call Marsha and tell her that she’s the designated driver cuz I’m about to get tore down…She picked me up close to midnight and we rode on over to Miami Beach, parked and walked over to 5th & Ocean for s slushee from Wet Willie’s. She ordered a small, I ordered a medium and when we walked outside on the 2nd floor, the people at the corner table were just getting up.”Wow,” I told Marsha. “Look how God did us. He gave us the best table in the place.” Our table was right on the corner overlooking the street sign so we had a nice breeze, nice drinks, nice chicken fingers and ofcourse the eye candy was plentiful.Marsha and I argued over what attracts us most to men. Marsha likes those model type dudes. The ones who be up in the gym everyday, with those hard muscles and chiseled faces, light skinned looking like Shemar Moore. Ugh…. No thanks. I choose Anthony Anderson. Jaleel White. Chris Rock. Kanye ofcourse. No Shemar Moore’s for me.After getting tipsy at Wet Willie’s we went on over to my favorite spot, Fat Tuesday’s. I love the music that they play and the crowd is always mixed with the glamorous and the unglamorous and since I’m in between I fit right in. Marsha played the mannequin role and posed on the sidelines all night while I got out there on the dance floor and shook my ass, POP IT, POP IT! Man, I needed that release.Ahh…Miami.I can’t wait to see my sons again.For right now it’s all about business.

Any Questions?

Dear Readers,

Please understand that my absence from the blogosphere is unintentional. When I am gone for an extended period of time, i.e; more than 3 days you can safely assume that my workload is fierce or my internet is down. In this case, both circumstances prevent me from updating you on the many, MANY crazy muthafuckin things that have been happening in my world.

Sometimes I think things happen to me just so you guys can be entertained…like…

You’ll never guess what happenedbetween me and Dell. I found out why he never showed me affection.

You’ll never guess who has been occupying most of my free time. I can’t believe it either.

Where is my side job taking me this Saturday?

Which two of my friends have set their wedding dates for 2007?

My current lease ends on December 1st. Where will I be living next week?

What happened between my editor and I that has made a dramatic improvement in our work relationship?

Why did I wake up in a strange bedroom the other night and I have no clue how I got there?

Suezette was published in my magazine a few weeks ago. Check out her piece called Size Sexy. You wanna get published? Have an opinion? Hit me up.


Stay tuned for the stories to these puzzling questions and so much more…

Be patient with me. I’m still getting things together. In the meantime, it’s question time!

You all know I’m extremely open. Post your NO HOLDS BARRED questions about my opinion on any topic (or questions about my life) in my comments section or email them to me and I will reply in my next post just as soon as things calm down.