Stupid Is, Stupid Does

It never ceases to amaze me that some of the smartest people I know make the most STUPID decisions. And whether man, woman, Filipino, or Black, Pulitzer Prize winner or magna cum laude - these decisions usually almost always involve matters of love.

We can build bridges, fly to the moon, and find cures for various diseases but walking away from a relationship we know is all wrong sometimes befuddles us more than AP calculus. She can manage budgets, schedules, and 37 employees - yet CAN'T manage to NOT answer the phone when HE calls. And he can manage to eat a dozen atomic chicken wings in under two minutes, drink 15 shots of Patron to the face like it's water, and bench 250lbs - yet CAN'T manage to NOT call HER on a beautiful afternoon.

So what fucking gives? We do. We give a damn, and we give our all. And when it comes to love, we give a shit about logic. Sometimes we give and give and give until we think we can't give anymore. And then he shows up at our door, or she takes care of us when we're sick, and we end up giving just a little. bit. more.

I know. It's fucking stupid. But I get it. That's why regardless of how I may roll my eyes at your stories, or call you an idiot, or wanna shake the shit outta you - I still love you afterwards. 'Cuz we've all been there, and that's the main reason it's so frustrating. Because I can empathize. No matter how many times we fall and then say we won't take it there again - we will. Maybe we'll try a different perspective or take a different approach, but if you're like me and your heart is as strong as your head is stubborn - we will do it all again.

We can make a dollar outta 15 cents but when it comes to love and common sense? Some things never change.

Dress You Up in My Love Pt. 2

It's no secret, ladies love a man in uniform. Some show authority (cop), some show bravery (fire-fighter), and some show athleticism (basketball). But all show a man in his element. Comfortable, and confident - and that's always a good look. The following in no particular order, are my favorite "uniforms" (or uniform paraphernalia) on a man. Ladies, feel free to add your own. Fellas, yall got six months 'til Halloween, MAKE IT HAPPEN.

1. Dress blues on a Marine: My, what a big rifle you have there Mr. Marine Man. Not too sure why, but this is the only marine uniform I'm really attracted to and I want to say it's the high collar. I'm assuming he feels all stuffy in it and can't wait for me to rip it offa him. And then there's the gloves. Something about him having to keep 'em clean that makes me wanna do dirty, dirty things to them.


2. Gun holsters: Especially when they're under a suit or on a "plain clothes cop." I think I've been watching too many reruns of New York Undercover and Training Day. But it's always a nice little element of surprise to find something hard and powerful, under a mans clothes. Besides, the man that stays "strapped" stays ready. Best believe pun intended lol.

3. A stethoscope: 'Cuz you know, all doctors in real life are as hot as McSteamy on Greys Anatomy (although this isn't a good picture of him and he looks way better shirtless). But honestly, you don't even need to be a doctor. A murse works just fine long as you have a stethoscope and it's wrapped around your neck like that. Makes me almost wanna run around nekkid in the rain just so I can catch pneumonia and be taken cared of.

4. Construction worker: OK. I'm sorry for you construction worker fans out there but no visual here. The only pics I could find online were shirtless beefy-cakey dudes who were nowhere near my type or the village people. Granted, a construction workers typical attire consist of just a white tee, Tims/work boots, jeans, and a protective hat. But add muscles, a little sweat, and a man who ain't afraid to work hard and get dirty? It's really all you need.

5. SF Giants Uniform (the jersey essentially): As if you didn't already know.

P.S. Don't worry, I will be doing a ladies version of this for my 5 male readers lol. Got you boo-boo.

Fowl Play

'Cuz writing yesterdays post reminded me of this ...

Years ago I was in the car with my boyfriend and one of his boys. His boy had a girlfriend at the time, yet proceeded to talk about this other girl he was fucking with. I gave him the side-eye and a disapproving sigh but kept my mouth shut. I think he read the profanities in my mind 'cuz immediately after he retorted, "I know, I know. But yall chicks love dudes with girlfriends!" To which I replied, "Correction: chicken heads." We smiled at each other.

A few weeks ago, my boy on FaceBook posed the question, "Why is that when a guy is in a relationship, it seems as if women are throwing booty at him like coins in a wishing well?" The consensus of the women who replied was that we want what we can't have. When we see a man that has a girlfriend, we assume he has qualities that make him boyfriend material and rather go after him than a single guy.

*blank stare*

I wanted to reply that it's because these women have no respect for relationships OR themselves, but didn't want to end up on an episode of "When BIRDS attack," so I refrained. I mean, I get the concept. I just refuse to understand the logic. I know it's bad to judge but I'M JUDGING lol. Mainly, 'cuz these are usually the same females talking about, "It's so hard to find a good man." While that may be true, it doesn't justify you fucking someone else's. Granted, no man ever actually gets stolen from another woman unless he wants to be "taken" to begin with but I digress.

Bruno Mars once crooned, "I'm no angel, but I'm not that bad." And I've never been one to be more attracted to a man because of the mere fact he had a girlfriend. I couldn't even lust over T.I. the same way after he married Tiny! (I'm really upset about this by the way.) This doesn't make these men less attractive. Nor does it mean I'll stop checking those guys out out. But once I find out a man is in a committed relationship, it's almost as if this "DO NOT TRESPASS" force-field automatically goes up.

Don't get me wrong. When I see a man - a fine one at that, faithful to his woman it's a definite turn-on. But seeing him happy and in love turns me off to the idea of wanting to be with him. Ladies, you ain't winnin just because you stole someone's man. A winner knows she deserves more than someone else's boyfriend. So do yourselves a favor and don't be a chicken-head. That shit's just foul.

This song is actually irrelevant to this post but since we talkin 'bout birds lol.

Quench Your Thirst

A girlfriend of mine told me how she went out with the guy she was seeing and some of his friends to Circolo the other weekend. She spoke of how much fun they had, how good the drinks were, and how the one white guy in the group c-walked his way into her heart. She then told me about the sorry excuse for a woman that offered her dude her number while she was in the bathroom. "Your girl ain't gotta know," she said. Except she did know. And later returned the broads side-eye with a flirtatious wink that really meant, "Yeah bitch, keep lookin 'cuz he came with me and he's going home with me."

It reminded me of this one time I was out with my dude ordering drinks at the bar. I noticed a pretty girl and her friend to the right of us and immediately knew she was feeling my guy. How did I know? 'Cuz the chick was staring at him hug and kiss and put his arms around me ALL FUCKING NIGHT.

Remember when I said I wasn't insecure? I'm not. Couldn't blame her for checking him out. She was simply confirming what I already knew; I got good taste. I just wish she didn't take her sweet ass obvious time confirming it. Because staring at someone's date that hard for that long is just borderline disrespectful to me. And I was one cranberry vodka away from giving her the head nod and saying, "He's handsome isn't he? ... And he's fucking my brains out in about an hour".

Of course I didn't say anything. I'm too grown and secure for that shit. Plus, I like my face lol. But it was the first time something like that had ever happened to me. And I couldn't help but empathize with some of you fellas, including the one I was with that night. 'Cuz everytime I go out I witness some bold ass guy think he's Trey Songz and attempt to Mr. Steal ya Girl while you're being a good man and putting your girls jacket in coat check. I know all is fair in love and war, but telling me, "That's who you're with? Naw you don't want him to get you a drink. You want ME to get you a drink," when my guy is right next to me are FIGHTING WORDS.

It's a constant reminder of just how cold the game can be. It's survival of the fittest. Love is a battlefield and men and women alike both fight dirty. I've come to learn that some men don't give a fuck about no man code, and that you can't have woman to woman intuition with bird ass bitches.

But to play devil's advocate here, these lames don't have to give a fuck about you. So you shouldn't give a fuck about them. They don't owe you shit. But the person you rolled to the spot with? The man who said they're exclusively dating you? The chick who told you she's not seeing anyone else? They owe you at least the respect to not entertain these people back.

As for you thirsty ass females tryna take a sip from MY tall glass of water? Go find your own bird bath. Now choke on that.

Joy/Pain Ride

He's not what you want, but he's exactly what you need ... right now.

Who knows how long you'll be able to detach your feelings from his embrace at night, but you figure you'll continue to spend time and have fun with him until the time you spend with him is no longer fun.

Because he feeds you, and makes you feel beautiful. He lets you hold his three fingers while you walk, and places his hand on your thigh when you rest your head on his shoulder. He takes care of you, and carries you from the couch to the bed when you're too tired to get up. He kisses, and hugs, and snuggles, and caresses, and knows exactly what position makes you explode.

And all the reasons you want to stay are all the reasons you want to leave.

Because you're five days away from your deadline. Four dates away from going off on him. Three clicks away from the "truth." Two strikes away from taking it back THERE. And one pitcher away from pouring your heart out.

But he's so convenient. And you're so lonely. And he's right there. Staring at you. Looking like a sexy motherfucker. Making you feel like it's the first date all over again. But it's not. And you already know. He's the wrong person at the right time. But he'll do, for right now.

So you guess you'll just go along for the ride. Until a shinier, more reliable car comes and swoops you up.

Or maybe you'll just fucking walk. You could use the exercise anyway.

TGIF - LYL Edition

Tell her she's beautiful. Tell him he's handsome. Tell her she's the only one you're seeing even if she's not your girlfriend. Tell him he's appreciated more than he could ever know. Tell her you're sorry. Tell him you're proud of him. Tell her you love her. Tell him you miss him. Hug your friends. Pick up your phone. Smile at people on the street. Go to your best friends house and do nothing. Have girls night outs. Be there for your boys. Plan dinners and brunches for no reason at all. Turn off your phone. Read a book. Enjoy the sunshine. Play in the rain. Cook dinner. Have lunch by yourself. Take a walk. Baby-sit your favorite lil' man or Princess. Eat something really bad for you. Eat something really good for you. Stop and smell the flowers. Take a deep breath.

Don't wait for excuses to love life. And don't wait for reasons to appreciate the people in it. Don't wait 'til it's too late.

Have a beautiful weekend. Got a little something for yall come Monday ;)

If You Do For Me

Remember when I wrote this blog and told you I've been feelin all Notebook, A Walk to Remember lately? Well mama ain't neva lie and the "yes homo" is stronger than ever.

Just yesterday while scoring the basketball game, I noticed a few players come in early and set up shop at the bleachers across from me. Along with some of them came friends, family, kids, and significant others. Among them was one woman I had seen the week before. A girlfriend of one of the players. She sat by herself, guarded her mans stuff while he played, and took pictures everytime he stepped up to the free-throw line. It was cute, and I couldn't help but empathize because it could've easily been me. Except I wouldn't have came in high heels with my hair all did, and I would've been screaming and cheering like an obnoxious asshole.

Because what good woman doesn't want to support her man and be there for him when he's in his element? Whether it be when he's on the field, behind the mic, in the kitchen, or overseeing a business, I want to be his #1 fan (or at least #2 'cuz I ain't tryna fight moms for that spot).

The homie Jeyel asked me this morning what I missed most about having a boyfriend. Its been so long, I had to think about it. Was it him dropping me off at work and kissing me good-bye? No. Him picking me up from work and kissing me hello? No. Him giving me massages? No (although it's definitely up there!). Him taking care of me when I'm sick? No. Him buying me "for nothing" gifts? No.

Then I realized that more than anything, I missed doing things for him.

Like making him lunch and sticking post-it notes on his tupperware. Seeing something that would look good on him and buying it "just because". Sexting him at inappropriate times. Making him french toast for breakfast in just his t-shirt while he's still sleeping. Tying his tie for him. Folding his laundry. Surprising him with tickets to his favorite game and not even expecting to go. Cooking him dinner and skipping the dining room to eat it at the coffee table while watching Jersey Shore on the couch. And finding him the BEST birthday or Christmas gift everrrrrr. So amazering, I almost give it to him early because I just can't wait 'til it hits midnight. Little things like that.

Which is actually pretty ironic. Because I barely cook for myself. I have yet to learn how to tie a tie. I absolutely detest folding my own laundry. And OF COURSE I wanna go to the damn game!

But that's the thing. I may not want to do certain things for myself but I have to. I may not have to do these certain things for my man but I want to. Some girls can sucker a sucker into buying her a shiny new toy, or taking her on a weekend getaway if she really wanted them to. And some girls may tolerate shit because they feel helpless, as if they have no choice or "have" to. But it takes a really special man to make us WANT to go above and beyond at times, and do things for them for the most unselfish reasons.

So I guess ... that's what I really miss the most about having a boyfriend. Or rather, what I miss having him do for me. As corny as it sounds, I miss him giving me that amazing feeling of simply wanting to do things for him.

Folks what's you're favorite part of being in a relationship whether you're in one right now or not?

P.S. Bout to show my age here but I love this song. Probably more now than I did back then.

Feeling Your Breast.

One of my favorite pair of celebrity boobs.

Being the bi-polar blogger I am, I would write about wanting things I can't have the day after I write about how fly I'm feeling. But let's face it, I have a vagina. That right there should explain it all. Thing is, in no way am I insecure. However, I do lack self-confidence. Does that even make sense? Hope so. That being said, I will always feel that there will be certain aspects of my personality that can be improved. I'm excited to work on these things because life is about growing as a person. But then, there come the things you can't change i.e. physical appearance, i.e. MY TITS.

Tits, tets, titties, tittays, tatas, boobs, boobies, breast, breasteses, jangs, melons, rack, cha-chas, honkers, headlights, hooters, knockers - whatever you wanna fucking call them, I will always want them. They just look so fun to have! Like a close confidant that'll never leave your side - err - front, you can always count on them. They make for nice head rest, and look awesome in tube tops, bikinis, and my personal favorite - v-neck shirts.

Going back to last Saturday when I was tooting my own horn, I'm pretty convinced that God didn't give me big boobs 'cuz he knew he would've created a MONSTER. Either that, or he knew it would've been a waste 'cuz I wouldn't know how to connivingly use them to my advantage. But the things I'd do with them if given the chance. Yes folks, I have a boobie bucket list, with titty-fucking on the top of it.

I know, I know, why right? WELL WHY THE HELL NOT?! I know it physically couldn't feel that good for me, but just to know that I could make some dude nut off of that alone is pretty cool. Second, on that list would be flashing someone. Not even for beads or a free drink, but just to brighten someone's day because I'm a joyous person like that. I mean imagine you're a dude waking up on the wrong side of the bed, getting in your car dreading to go to work. Then, at the light the chick next to you with the amazing rack says good morning and lifts up her shirt. Tell me that wouldn't put a smile on your face?

Lastlyl, I think I'd just buy a whole bunch of pretty bras, try them on, and stare at my tits in them. For at least a good half hour straight. I know that sounds kinda weak but even more than other people liking the way they look, I'd want to like the way they look even more.

Because when all is said and done, regardless of how many people tell you this and that - if you don't believe it yourself, it ain't nothing but noise.

So while I'll always have an infatuation with big, natural breast and tasteful implants, I could never get a boob job. For one, I'm too much of a hypochondriac to go through the actual surgery. And I really like being able to go top-commando sometimes. In about 10 years, I won't have to worry too much about them being down to my knees, and honestly, hearing my double deezy endowed friends complain about back aches doesn't sound so hot.

I find nothing wrong with altering your appearance whether naturally or via Dr. 90210, as long as you're doing it for yourself. You shouldn't have to go out and get botox, or breast implants, or butt injections for the things you lack (or in some cases i.e. lypo you have too much of). Instead, go out and find a guy that loves you and thinks you're beautiful because of the things you ALREADY have.

I once had a guy tell me my itty-bitties were "perfect." It was the first time anyone had ever said anything like that to me about my body, what more about the part of my body that was practically non-existent. But it was really nice to hear because I know he meant it. I don't think they're "perfect," but I suppose they're perfect for me so I might as well have fun with them. Besides, I'd like to think I have bigger things to offer than just my cup-size.

BTW - the worst part about all of this wasn't that she was fine the way she was, or even that she looks like a completely different person - but that she did it for her anti-christ of a husband *smh* Heidi didn't need plastic surgery, she needed a therapist. And a hug.

Blessing and a Curse

Sitting at the bar of a posh hotel does wonders for a woman's self-esteem. Last Saturday, as I was stirring three olives in my exxxtra dirty martini at the XYZ bar of the W hotel, I caught a whiff of my own freshly washed hair and thought to myself, "Damn, I smell good." Needless to say, I was feelin myself that night and I am not the least bit ashamed, because it was ALL ME. And it's been a while since I genuinely felt good about myself without the validation from someone else.

The best part was I felt good for every woman in that room.

With their long, shiny hair smelling like orgasm in a bottle. With their four-inch stilettos and tight fitting dresses that hug every curve of their bodies. With their plump lips, beautiful smiles, and batting eyelashes. With their cute laughs, and raspy voices.

Slim, thick, tall, short - women are fucking gorgeous. Even some of the ugly ones lol. We smell good, and have soft skin. And the really awesome ones? They speak their minds and stand their ground all while still making you feel like the motherfucking MAN.

It may come effortless to some, while the rest of us take nearly an hour to get ready but either way we take pride in ourselves and care about how we look when we step outside the house and spend an evening with YOU.

Even my man friend I was hanging out with that night said, "Women are the best thing ever to come into a man's life." I shook my head and laughed. I'd like to agree. It's no wonder some of yall can't be with just one.

Waiting for Saturn

Today is March 28th and I am approximately six months away from turning 30. FUCK MY FUCKING LIFE.

By now I should've been a successful fashion designer living in the San Mateo hills, married for 3 years with one child, and pregnant with my second. Instead, I'm a single, aspiring writer renting an in-law.

Surprisingly enough, I am having the time of my life.

The rumors I once thought were blasphemous are true: "30s the new 20, I'm so hot still." I know I sound like some old fart trying to make myself feel better for being ancient, but I can honestly say that the older I get, the more fun I have.

When I turned 25 I experienced my first of many quarter life crisis. I seriously thought my life was over. Now four years later, I feel as if it's just beginning. I know exactly what I want in life, in a partner, in a career, and in myself. And honey let me tell you, I've been having sex since I was 16 but I don't think I've ever had SEX until this past year so just to let you know - it only gets better. But I digress.

I used to look at 21-23 year olds and wish I could take it there once again. But then I remember what an even hotter mess I was back then. I embarked on a world of credit card debt, struggled with reporting classes, hated my customer service job, had bad skin, didn't talk to my mom for a year, and did dumb shit like get into screaming matches in the parking lot of Denny's with my non-boyfriend. I had less responsibilities but I was too young and naive to take advantage of it. I spent so much time planning the future and relying on things that weren't guaranteed, that I never got to enjoy the present and appreciate what was right in front of me.

I'm not gonna lie. I still have a tendency to count my chickens before they hatch and feel ungrateful. Sometimes I still have no idea what the fuck I'm doing. But now I know this is OK. How boring would life be if we weren't constantly learning? If today was as good as it gets? The biggest difference between me at 23 and me at 29 asides from a faster metabolism and flatter stomach, is I'm actually excited about what the future has in store for me.

So beautiful, young people of the world with your toned bodies, and high alcohol tolerances - I no longer hate or envy you (well, maybe just a little). I am ecstatic for you. You think you're having fun now? You just wait and see.

'Cuz even if you don't end up where you thought you'd be, trust that you'll end up exactly where you should be.

Hocus-Focus

About a year ago my gay at work suggested I write down a list of things I wanted in life, tangible or not. Big, or small. It didn't matter, long as I was specific. The idea was nothing new to me, I had read many inspirational articles and listened to numerous motivational speeches referencing this type of exercise. Finally, I decided to give it a try. On the top of my list was, "Have a successful and lucrative career doing what I love to do." I read this list every morning, and every night right before I went to bed. After maybe three or four days I got an email regarding a paid copywriting gig.

Of course my eyes widened as I read the email thinking, "HOLY SHIT, IT'S LIKE MAGIC!" So one would think I would've continued the self-fulfilling prophecy and kept up with the list but I abandoned it only a week later. Matter fact, my world kinda fell apart shortly after. What can I say? Shit happens, and you fall down or in my case you spiral into an abyss. Then you either stay spiraling and let the world pass you by or you get up, grab life by the throat and choke that bitch into submission ... or at least work out some sort of compromise.

So here I am a year later with the same stars in my eyes. Only they're brighter, and I can see clearer than ever. While perusing Facebook today, I randomly came across a link to a renovated warehouse/living space my friend posted. I immediately thought of my "dream house," which you'd be surprised to find out is a lot more realistic than you'd think. I only have a few absolute musts - with an infinity pool being the most outrageous lol. Honestly, as long as I have a washer and dryer inside the house, I'm good. I'm a simple girl. The 2-car garage, second-story, and walk in closet are just an added bonus ;)

Anyway, I'm printing out these pictures today and posting them all over my cubicle walls. To remind myself that I deserve better and am capable of so much more. More than likely, you are too. So write a list (check it twice!), find pictures of shit that motives you. Listen to inspiring stories like this one about Sylvester Stallone, and surround yourself with positive people that spark fires in your soul. Do whatever you have to do to FOCUS.

It's easy to get excited, but it takes real effort to STAY excited. Maybe because we are so used to basing success on results. New Years hits and you get a gym membership and go hard for the first three weeks and then come the fourth and you're over it. But had you acquired a 2-pack during that fourth week, I'm sure you would've been more inclined to continue beasting it so that 2-pack turns into 4, and eventually working out becomes second nature to you.

Remember: Ideas, no matter how good they are - are NOTHING without execution. And you won't get to swim in your infinity pool, or fill up your walk-in closet if you're just staring at them from your cubicle.

They Can't See This Vacancy

Hi. How could I forget you? Your face. It's so beautiful. I remember when I used to love looking at it. But. I was wondering. If maybe, just maybe you'd go away now. Please?

'Cuz I'm tired.
So,
so,
tired.

Of cleaning up after the mess you left behind. In my mind, in my heart, in my soul. And even in the small of my back. I'm tired of drowning out your voice in the morning with Wale on the Ipod, and I'm especially tired of hearing whispers of what coulda, woulda, shoulda from your side of the bed at night.

I wish I could sweep away every memory in my brain of you. So that I could forget how I wound up in your arms anyway. Then, maybe I'd stop retracing my steps back there. I would appreciate it if you returned the favor and forgot my name, number, and address to my heart as well. Because it's just not fair anymore.

How you're everything to me. When I'm nothing to you at all.

When you're everywhere. And I'm not even a scent on your pillow, a reflection in your mirror, or a taste on the tip of your tongue. I try to hate you, I want to forget you, but I miss you instead.

So please, just go away. Grab your stuff and leave. Because I'm tired of picking up my phone to dial your number after something good happens to me. I'm tired of seeing jackets and shirts and sweaters that I want to buy 'cuz they'd look so good on you. And I'm tired of laying with him ... then rolling over and wondering how you are, what you're doing, and if you still think of me.

Here, I'll even help you pack. I just hope this box is big enough for all the shit you left behind.

Method to the Madness

If you think it's kinda hard out here for a pimp, imagine how hard it is for a female blogger. Especially one that puts herself out there as much as I do. Baring my soul on the internet and showcasing to the world not just the good, the bad, and the ugly - but the neurotic, the crazy, the lewd, and the bi-polar as well. Obviously, it's more my fault than anyone else's because I choose what goes on here, and no one has a gun to my head yelling "Publish!" But I can't help but think it would be a different story if I had a penis in between my legs ... well you know, not in the way one normally is *ba-dump-bump*.

Now I wouldn't go as far as saying that the blogosphere is sexist, but it definitely plays favorites.

Especially with readers of the opposite sex. When a man writes about love he's admirable. When I write about love, I'm typical. When a man writes about sex, he's a pimp. When I write about sex, I'm a whore. When a man writes about heartache, he's sensitive. When I write about heartache, I'm unstable. When a man writes about being alone, he's a bachelor. When I write about being alone, I'm lonely. When a man writes about being crazy for someone, he's honest. When I write about being crazy for someone, I'm just CRAZY.

Not that we write to get laid, but for the most part male bloggers attract women while I feel as if some of my posts make men want to run for the hills. I actually know a girl who probably masturbates to Jozen's blog and would jump on him given the chance (and no it's not me lol). But I feel like if a stranger of the opposite sex thought I was cute and read my blog he'd think, "Oh fuck this crazy bitch, I'm outta here!" While I could never be with a man that didn't support my writing, I would definitely be cautious when introducing him to it. I think it would hinder our relationship more than help it.

At the same time though, men tend to see male bloggers that write about more than sports, and fucking as soft, simps, or even traitors that break every man rule in the book. While for the most part, women find Raaachem's words inspiring, and her voice empowering. Thus, I realize that it's not just the blogosphere. It's the atmosphere. Sexist stereotypes are nothing new, only its outlets are. I don't expect to break every stereotype either, especially when some of them are TRUE.

'Cuz I am dysfunctional, and brash. I get lonely, and cry over SPCA commercials. But I can also be logical, and chill, and all sorts of other amazing things as well. And guess what? I'm not the only one. The only difference is - I document it on here.

So if anything, I hope that this helps you understand how simply complex some women can be. That there is in fact a method to our madness. Then, maybe you'll know the difference between "No," and "No." So that if we go out on a date where we laugh all night and practically finish each others sentences, and I even give you a kiss good-night ... but don't answer your phone call the next day, then you'll know why.

No it All.

"I'll make you feel better than you've ever, I guarantee you'll tell that other man you need to get lost ..." It's your cell phone, and it's him. Yes - HIM.

Don't pick it up. Just let it ring. Or forward it to your voicemail. Whatever you do - DO NOT PICK UP.

"Hello?"

FML.

"Hey beautiful."

FML. And about 3 minutes into the conversation you think it again ...

"Are you free Friday night?"

FML. Tell him you have to walk your turtle. Tell him you have to wash your hair. Tell him you have a meeting with Charlie Sheen. Tell him you're building an airplane. Tell him anything BUT yes.

"Yeah, I think so."

"Wanna watch a movie?"

JUST SAY NO. HERE, SAY IT WITH ME - NO.

"Sure."

Good fucking God woman! You know how easy it is to say the word "No"? You have more trouble breathing sometimes. I'm shaking my head in disappointment at you right now. Can you see me, can you? I hope not. Because then you'd also see me replying back to a text I'd probably have been better off just ignoring. Don't worry, I may not approve of your bitchassness, but I definitely understand.

So why do we do do what we do when we do what we do? The only answer I can come up with is - because we can. Until one day, we simply can't anymore.

In our lifetime we'll say we won't but will anyway at least a handful of times, and dont's will turn into "Fuck, what did I just do's?!" more than we'd like them too. You get fooled once and shame the other person, you get fooled twice and shame yourself. And then you get fooled the 11th time and just feel like a fucking fool. It's a vicious cycle or like the homie Crash said, "It's like an out of body experience." 'Cuz far too many times has he said no to buying a pair of kicks ... as he was handing over his ATM card to the cashier.

Perhaps old habits die hard. Perhaps it's so hard to say no because we don't see the immediate repercussions of saying yes and only learn the hard way. While it's an obvious lack of self-control, I also think it's a subtle abundance of a bunch of other things - (i hate to say this but in some cases) boredom being one of them.

I really don't know. It's just one of those things I have no explanation for or enlightening moral of the story to. But if you have an answer, promise you'll tell me? Don't worry, it's ok to say yes this time.

Don't Believe the Hype (the reprise)

I read this article the other day about women like Halle Berry and found it unfortunate that some people still find looking beautiful synonymous with being beautiful. I understand the misconception, but you only set yourself up for disappointment when your expectations of someone are based on what you've seen on Facebook, or what you've heard in the women's restroom or mens locker room, instead of what you actually know.

Not only does this tarnish whatever preconceived notion of perfection you had of them, but can you imagine how they must feel? For those who are actually honest with themselves - IT'S A LOT FO FUCKING PRESSURE.

I know a girl who before I actually knew her, I knew of her. And for as long as I've known her, she always had a "the" before her name. I'm pretty sure every boy wanted to date her and most girls were either jealous or intimidated by her. I am not most girls. One day I met her and we became friends. Not girls, but friends. And what was NOT to like about her? She was gorgeous, nice, and had steez. But that was pretty much about it. I want to say the person lived up to "the" name, but there were so many other girls I found more intriguing.

And then, I met a man. A man who apparently had a reputation I was unaware of, most likely because I never cared about those types of things. He didn't have a "the" before his name, but he did have a "fucking" in between it. We were acquaintances to say the least, but to every other girl - he was the man, the myth, the legend. Funny thing was, I didn't fall in love with him until I realized he was a mess, a sham, and nothing like everyone else thought he was.

No one wants to admit their flaws, what more advertise it. But when a persons reputation (that may or may not be true) takes precedent over the actual person, it becomes unfortunate. It's one thing to fall for the potential of a person, and another to fall for someone that doesn't even exist. But then again, whose fault is that?

It's fine for those of us who don't care and just wanted another notch under our belts. And it's inevitable and almost well deserved for those who are interested only in concepts and not actual characters. But for those of us who looked past the hearsay? Who asked instead of assumed? Who took the time to get to know the person behind the pretty face? It just makes it unfair.

Marilyn Monroe once said, "If you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best." Unfortunately, some of us are able to handle people's worsts' even when they can't handle it themselves. And just to let you know, your truth and imperfections are even more beautiful than whatever anyone can hope you are. So let your reputation live up to YOU, not the other way around.

No Porno.

I intended on blogging about my Top 3 favorite porn stars today until I realized that I only have 1.5. Yeah long story, but upon struggling for the remaining 1.5 I came across two revelations: 1) Good God I watch too much porn and 2) there are a few things in porn that I just cannot tolerate. So seeing as I had better luck listing this topic, I will proceed to write about it instead, starting with ...

1) Gagging noises during head. I get how men can find it hot considering it either means the chick has bad gag reflexes, or most likely that your dick is above average. But as someone that likes to give head? Even I wanna yack while listening to it. All the gargling noises just remind me of when I'm brushing my teeth and accidentally swallow some toothpaste and wanna lightweight throw up. I wouldn't want someone to yack on my vagina so why would you want someone to throw-up on your dick?

2) Anal sex. I know, I know. Don't knock it 'til you try it. And I've heard wonderful things from those who have tried it and loved it (fucking freaks lol jk!). I have yet to let someone enter where it's an exit only, and after watching this one Asa Akira flick the other night, it may be a looooong while before I do. It's one thing to get it from the back door, but another thing when the back door looks like the fucking garage afterwards! akljdsfkljsdlf. By the end of the scene Asa literally had an ass HOLE. It was gaping. I could stick a golf ball in that bitch, and I'm sure it wouldn't have been the first time. Granted the circumference of the dudes dick was Jupiter but STILL. It was just. All sorts of. WRONG. And I immediately x'd out the window after seeing it.

3) Too much dirty-talk. Don't get me wrong, I am a fan. Ninja sex is only fun when you can't be loud due to thin walls, or someone else in the room ... I mean, not that I've ever done that before. But too much of it KILLS it. It's very rare you find a porno where all parties involved are actually good looking but I found one that was close enough. Johnny Sins and Eva ... Eva something. I was all excited and shit and then the bitch started sounding like the Exorcist on some Twista flow. I literally laughed out loud. She wasn't even talking to the dude no more, just blabbing out some shit. I think I heard her recite the emancipation proclamation somewhere in there.

I have a few runners up like high pitched voices, exchanging cum orally, and balls touching during double penetration but it's a few hours after St. Patties and I'm wasted so I'll leave it at this. If you'd like to add anything to the list feel free to do so as usual.

P.S. I really wanted to include an illustration with todays post but I just didn't want to risk the possible viruses that would've came up had I googled "Double penetration," or "gaping asshole". SORRY.

Failure at its Best

"The greater danger for most of us is not that our aim is too high and we miss it, but that it is too low and we hit it"~Michaelangelo

He asked me what I was scared of, and I said failure. I immediately felt ashamed afterwards. For what would life be without it?

Sure, it would be a lot less stressful. Less dramatic. Less discouraging. Maybe even less painful. But it would also be stagnant. Redundant. Mediocre. Life, would be BORING. Because without failure, there would be less understanding. Less experience. Less wisdom. Less drive.

While the possibility of failure deters us from taking risks, it's the reason we have risks to begin with. It's what separates those who are alive, from those who actually LIVE. It keeps us on our toes. And at the same time, it humbles us.

Because the taste of failure, makes victory that much sweeter. Had Chris Gardner been handed his fortune to him on a silver platter, his pursuit of happiness may have never starred Will Smith ... because there would've never never been a movie to begin with. The Fab Five may have never won a championship, but failures they are not.

We have to be at least a little scared of failure, but we must NEVER be at the mercy of it. Instead, know it's potential and understand its consequences so that it forces you to step your game up - instead of paralyzing you.

Difficult isn't impossible. And as many times as I've said it I'm gonna say it again, "Nothing worth having comes easy." Easy, is well ... just ... easy. Ask anyone whose beat Mario Kart on level "easy." At the end, you pump your fist in the air (or not) and shout out a victory yell (or not) but it usually gets drowned out by one of your friends saying, "Aw man that's weak, my little sister can beat that shit on easy." WELL FUCK YOU OK?! Failure is SCARY, but #winning is so much more than crossing the finish line on Level Rainbow.

I'm not saying to fail on purpose, or tip opportunities that land in your lap. I'm just reminding you (and myself especially) that as devastating failure can be, overcoming your fears can for at least five seconds make you feel INVINCIBLE.

And the potential of failure is essential in order to SUCCEED.

I Get Lonely Too

Learn to be alone, without being lonely.

I've said that numerous times in various blogs I've written. I've texted friends the same notion when they were going through "it," included the line in emails, and even thought it outloud to myself.

But what I forgot to say was, it's OK to be lonely.

How else are you supposed to feel when it's as if you're the last single girl on Earth, and you get the couch during weekends with the boys 'cuz their wife and kids get first dibs on the bedrooms? Am I supposed to believe that successful, beautiful, outgoing people are robots with the ability to turn on and off their emotions with a flick of a switch? You may fool them. But you don't fool me, I SEE YOU.

Because we all have wants, and needs. Most of the time, it's not even about the sex. Sometimes it's about driving to someone's house you vowed you'd never see again. Not even realizing what you're doing until you're sitting in your car in their driveway, just so they can wrap their arms around you, and for the night you can at least pretend there's something there or they're someone else.

Loneliness is powerful ain't it?

It makes you do things you normally mind, with people that don't normally matter. Sometimes, it even tricks you into believing that people you normally don't mind, actually matter. Because regardless of how many guys are waiting in line, how many dinner reservations you make, and baseball games you attend, next to nothing parallels the feeling of doing absolutely nothing with that one person you truly care about. And I know you have 1,427 Facebook friends but not just anyone can fill the void that he or she left behind.

Everyone knows you can still feel lonely as hell in a crowded room. So what does one do when they've already mastered the art of learning to be alone but not lonely? They learn to be lonely. And it's OK. 'Cuz guess what? I get lonely too. It happens. But I also get tired of being lonely. So I take off my kawawa pants, put on a pair that make my ass look exquisite, and get the fuck out and go have some fun! Sometimes, I don't even miss anyone in particular. Sometimes I just miss having someone to miss.

I never said it was gonna be easy. Hell, I don't even know if it gets easier. But at least now you know you're not the only one feeling lonely. At least now you know, you are not alone.

**I swear Drake didn't pay me to keep posting songs of his. Sheer coincidence, promise lol.

Nice Girls Finish Last

"I've been considering ... that I'm too considerate."

I read that on the homie Ricc's Facebook status a few weeks ago, and I couldn't agree with it more. One major difference with the Abi in a relationship now and the Abi in a relationship then, is I'm a lot more ... well ... in layman's terms, CHILL.

You guys are probably thinking, "Damn, if this crazy bitch thinks she's chill now, I can only imagine how loony-toons she used to be." But I swear the three people that used to take residency in my head have since fled the country, leaving only two left. Hey, I never said I was sane, I said I was chill.

It's a little ridiculous though. Sometimes I catch myself during these acts of rationalizing (which was once a foreign concept to me btw. rationalizing, what's that?) and ask myself, "WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU??!!" Then that calm Mother Theresa like voice in my head replies, "A woman who has learned from her mistakes," and all is well in the world and I find my equilibrium once again.

Because I am no longer the Abi that kicks in dashboards and flings open passenger side doors while the car is still in motion 'cuz I can't stand another second of your insecure ass in my space. I am no longer the Abi that mutters, "You ain't shit," under her breath while walking past you in front of a club you were at that I "just so happened" to end up at as well. And I am no longer the Abi that hastily gives you textual tongue lashings because things get lost in context and you're too coward to pick up the fucking phone! *woo-sah*

Now, I may clench my fist ... but I don't cast any stones. I think about chuckin my stiletto point blank at your face, but instead I put on my shoes and leave. Now, the Smorgasbord of emotions I feel combined with being partially jaded has enabled me from yelling, and screaming, and throwing things. If anything, it all comes out in tears. Even then, it's a rarity compared to the splash zones I created just a year ago.

And when I found out the last guy was really at a baseball game with his ex-girlfriend instead of at a family reunion in Colorado, it took every inch of my being to backspace the long-winded texts I had written out, put the phone down, and wait five whole days to marinate on my feelings, and confront him in person. Don't worry, no ex's were harmed in the making of that drama either. It actually went very good, I wouldn't have changed anything and I'm currently patting myself on the back as I type.

So one would think that this whole Zen Abi is a good thing, but quite frankly, I'm getting tired of it. I am currently putting up a Craigslist ad to fill the three vacancies my old tenants left behind in my brain. Because this whole "nice" business is turning out to be more of a curse than a blessing. More and more, am I starting to believe that as much as men seem to think girls only go for assholes, guys gravitate towards the bitches. As much as men say they hate drama - they love the crazy! What else would keep a man in a relationship for seven "unhappy" years? We all know that if you really want to leave - you will leave.

But the worst part of it all, is that "niceness" continues to be misinterpreted for weakness. That me looking at all aspects of a circumstance means I'm being a pushover. Or that looking at the good in you automatically gives you a license to treat me bad. When all it is, is me being grown, eliminating regret in my life, and quite frankly saying, "You/It ain't worth it," without slapping you so hard your ears ring.

So trust me when I say to never, mistake my kindness for weakness. Or anything else than what it is. Because those five days I waited to respond to Mr. Triflin were TOUGH. It would've been sooo much easier to leave an expletive ridden voicemail. Knowing how to efficiently pick and choose your battles, is NOT for the weak. Determining when to think with your heart and when to think with your head is a skill acquired through years of blood, sweat, and most of all - tears. Not something that lands in your lap.

So I will continue to be this nice girl, with nice dreams until I meet a man who is just as nice, as he is nice looking. Someone who is just as "chill" as me, but understands that I'll have my moments. Because I couldn't be the asshole that finishes first even if I tried.

Or, shit. Maybe I'll just wait until I snap. 'Cuz like another Facebook status I saw from my girl Chey said, "There's a crazy bitch somewhere inside of me that is begging for a reason to go H.A.M. on a motherfucker."

Let's hope the former happens first.

Thanks Gayson! "I might smile, but I ain't no joke."

COME ON SON!

It was a loooong weekend, although not long enough if you know what I mean. I currently have a record of 5 unfinished posts that I am just too un-funny, un-witty, and un-smart to complete this morning but I did have a few things I've been wanting to get off my chest. Ever since writing this, I was reminded of a few other cliche concepts that need to get sonned ASAP:

1) You are not allowed to get mad at someone for snooping through your shit unless you are innocent. How the fuck you gonna get mad at your girlfriend for checking your iPhone and finding sext messages you sent your ex then try to pull the invasion of privacy card? It's like walking in on your wife having sex with her boss and her getting pissed at you because you didn't knock first. And honestly, if you were that sloppy 'bout your shit, you deserved to get caught anyway.

Exception to the rule: If you're doing dirty but clean up after your mess and your significant other comes up empty handed, lucky you! But don't give them too much shit for "not trusting you," it doesn't make you off the hook, it just makes you a smooth criminal. Furthermore, the rule no longer applies to you if after the 2nd time you get caught they still take you back. In that case, they probably deserve to get cheated on as much as you deserve to get slapped.

2) You are not allowed to blame Facebook for the demise of your relationship (or the internet in general for that matter). Like my boy Nick said, "Facebook doesn't ruin relationships. PEOPLE RUIN RELATIONSHIPS." Social networking websites are not insecure or jealous. They are not flirts or cheaters. They don't post seductive pictures and leave incriminating comments on them. When will yall ever learn? If you're partner is so crazy that they misinterpret every single "like" on your wall, then leave them or delete your Facebook. It's as simple as that.

3) You are no longer allowed to tell ME (at the very least) to "Stop looking for love," as if I'm on the corner behind a bush with a bear trap and binoculars waiting for my future husband to come along. Stop looking at the greater good in people? OK. Stop falling in love with the potential of a man? Mos def. But I can't stop doing what I never did to begin with. And unfortunately, we don't get to choose who we catch feelings for. What's most annoying is usually the people that tell us to stop looking for love, are the sames ones telling us, "You'll never know until you try. Open your eyes, and your heart. Stop building walls," etc. etc. Well damn, wtf do you want me to do, have a nervous breakdown?

OK, rant over. Feel free to add to the list!