Monday, February 28, 2011
Some people find it hard to believe that women with similar interest and goals can't be friends, what more the best of friends. Because we are too competitive to support one another or too catty, and jealous to genuinely look out for the best interest of our girls. And this can be true. But at some point in ones life, or at least in mine, you learn to look at the bigger picture.
In case yall forgot, I write for another blog called WTForks.com. I remember the first time our stats were ridiculous enough for us to send out a mass celebration email, we became obsessed with numbers. So much that it began to take away from the quality of our posts. While it's always good to check out the competition, when it gets to a point where you're only doing something for the sole purpose of being better than others, your work loses its integrity and the passion is lost. As soon as we decided to not pay attention to the stats and go back to the basics, our readership increased. Coincidence? I personally think not.
I'm not gonna lie, I've read plenty of articles by women and men, and thought to myself, "Witty asshole, why didn't I think of that?" And yes, I do use that as fuel to be a better writer. But not in the sense where I'm constantly comparing myself to others or trying to be better than them. That's not the point. Because no matter how hard I try, I will never be her or him or them. Why the fuck would you want to be anyone else but a better version of yourself anyway?
No matter how much you click with someone else, no matter how similar you and your bff dress, and no matter how often the two of you finish each others sentences, you are still two different people, with two different brains, and two different hearts, that will never agree on every single thing. You may have the same destination, but different ways of getting there. The same dreams, but different realities. And the more you waste your time competing and comparing, the less time you spend achieving.
It's understandable and only right to help yourself before you attempt to help others. Like on airplanes when they tell you to put on your mask before aiding someone else with theirs. I love my friends, but at the end of the day I will always look out for myself first. Is it selfish? Maybe. Is it necessary? Sometimes. Is it the truth? FOR SURE.
However, my friends are only milliseconds behind. "You know if I ball, then we all go'n stunt." But more than wanting to be able to take care of the people I love, I want them to be successful and take care of themselves. There are ways to climb to the top without stepping all over people and throwing them under the bus. Find them.
'Cuz as much as I want the shine, it gets hot under the sun. And as high as I wanna get? It's going to be twice as lonely on the top. Poppin bottles ain't as fun if you're the only one drinking.
And yeah this song has nothing to do with the post with the exception of that one line but peep it anyway lol. Actually, peep the official video instead. Cassie is too gorgeous in it and I love her outfit in the beginning. "Suede Tims on my feet make the cypher complete ..." Even though they're actually made outta nubuck ... just sayin lol.
1 more month! You know I'm counting down the days ...
To think, mi amor Yonathan pitches on that mound behind me. Oh the inappropriate things I could say to follow that. It's just too easy though lol.
Happy birthday FD! And congrats to Triple Double Sports for hosting an amazing event!
Ball, beer, bitches, and my boys. Add babies and pit bulls and I'm pretty much set.
OMG I am just about as witty as a tree stump today. Good bye.
Yesterday, I had brunch with a few of my faves at Social Kitchen & Brewery on 9th and Irving. I broke my vow to not have beer until baseball season officially started Friday at the Warrior game so I figured why not. I was never one to follow the rules anyway lol. And after all was said and done (and drunk at 2pm lol) it was totally worth it.
We started it off with a beer sampler to celebrate "Strong beer month," who the fuck comes up with these things? Top - bottom: Double Doozy IPA, White Thai Affair, The Big Lebowski White Prussian, Big Muddy Weizenbock, and The Giant S'more. I had high hopes for the White Thai Affair because it contained lemon grass and galangal but it wasn't my favorite. The Giant S'more which was everyones choice at first, tasted similar to Guinness which I of course love, but my fave was actually the Muddy Weizenbock. With the White Prussian which I could drink for breakfast with toast at a close second. Do I sound like an alcoholic yet?
Breakfast of champions!
To be real honest with you, there were only 2 things that disappointed me about this place. 1) I was anticipating a "brunch" menu because brunch is my favorite meal of the day, but that has nothing to do with the restaurant anyway. 2) The menu selection is sparse. However, the few items they do have that we got were excellent. The brussel sprout chips below are kinda reason enough alone to visit Social Kitchen. Next to them are beer battered sweet potato fries. These are NOT your mothers brussel sprouts. They're fucking light, crispy, buttery, and like - RIDICULOUS. P.S. They peel each and every one by hand.
To make myself feel better from being a fat ass the entire weekend I opted for the Hanger Steak Cobb Salad, which was delicious. Steak, applewood smoked bacon, avocado, blue cheese, cherry box tomatoes, and a poached egg on top. The steak was PERFECT. Tender, juicy, and flavorful. I could've done with more avocado but that's only 'cuz I'm obsessed with it.
Ed got the loco moco burger with 2 patties, and 2 eggs, and a plethora of dipping sauces. I didn't get a chance to try it but judging by the happy food dance he did during the meal, I'm assuming it was good. I think I have more pictures of food than people on my phone btw.
For dessert, something similar to BJ's pizookie.
And bread pudding.
Now remember, while this place does serve food it IS a brewery so unless you live for brussel sprouts I don't suggest coming here if you don't like beer. It's kind of pointless. However, the building is beautifully structured, spacious, and clean. I esp love the lighting! If you ever go, check out the light fixtures above the bar and if you see the homie Tone, tell him Abi says hi :)
Sunday, February 27, 2011
"I wish we had another time
I wish we had another place
But everything we have is stuck in the moment
And there's nothing my heart can do
But fight with time and space cause
I'm still stuck in the moment with you"
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Oh, hella forgot I even embedded this video here lol. How great does Jennifer Hudson look? She needs to not lose anymore weight though, otherwise she'll look like a bobble-head. The melody and arrangement of the song are aite but her voice is of course fab and the lyrics are really good. Enjoy! Breakfast with one of my bests time!
Friday, February 25, 2011
1) I rarely ask yall for favors but I've been wanting to play this song on repeat since I first heard it during her show at Yoshi's last November. It's a really cute, happy song. So if you or someone you know just so happens to have it or a legit link to where I can download it ... holla at a homegirl. Pretty please? I'll write, post, and dedicate a haiku in your honor! Or I dunno, think of something lol.
2) MISSING: If you see this girl, please report her to firstname.lastname@example.org. Thanks. Was going through old pics on my laptop and came across this. I don't even fucking look like this anymore - double wah!
3) OK, this is only half a wah 'cuz I hate the rain. Buuuuut I know U C IT! Those little snowflakes on Saturdays forecast that is. If it happens I'm pretty sure I'm gonna cry lol.
Alright, have an amazing weekend everybody!
Yesterday I started three different blogs, one of which I hoped to finish and publish today. But by the end of my workday the rain started kicking in, and so did the melancholy. Thus, this post was conceived. One thing I learned so far this year is, no matter how much planning you do, no matter how much of a life-agenda-highlighting nazi you are - there's still a huge possibility that shit won't go down accordingly.
And for someone like me who does event coordinating and loves to plan, not having control over something is equivalent to the sky falling. A few weeks ago I had made some life-altering plans. I got excited over them, and cried happy tears over the endless possibilities that awaited me ... only to have it all come to a standstill.
So now I sit here. Restless, depressed, and resentful as fuck. Because these long over due plans that I had meticulously made and even consulted with the people I care about with, went to shambles. You know how that feels? It feels like I failed. You know what it really means though? I simply have to tweak my original plan, or make a completely new one. For me and this dream of mine, GIVING UP IS NOT AN OPTION. Where there's a will, there's a way. Even if today may seem worse than yesterday.
That's the thing about hitting rock bottom, there's nowhere else to go but UP. Trust me, I know. I've cried on bathroom floors before trying to dig myself a deeper hole only to find out they lead nowhere. So while yall are doing the damn thang this weekend - I will be doing the same ... all while thinking of more plans. "Because it's never too late to be the person you want to be," and I plan on being just that, only better. See you at the top :)
"Now tell me how you love it. You know you at the top when only heavens right above it. (Say it with me now) WE ONNNN ..."
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Well doesn't this look familiar?
They went upstairs and he went to the kitchen to open the bottle of Sebastiani he bought earlier that day, as she made a beeline for the bathroom. The bathroom smelled just as she remembered. Pantene she thinks. With a little Sean John cologne. And a touch of some Bath and Body Works liquid soap. By the time she sat on the couch and snuggled up underneath the same throw blanket that used to greet her, two glasses of wine sat on the coffee table. She held the glass to her face and took a whiff. The scent of Pinot Noir invaded her nostrils. She hadn't drank wine since their last "date."
Well doesn't this smell familiar?
"'You're so beautiful." "Wow, you look real good." "I'm so glad to see you." "Aw why you always clownin?" "Damn, you smell nice." "You're so pretty." "How have you been?" "I had a lot of fun tonight" "We always be doing it big huh?" "Why you ain't never called me back?" "I miss you." "You miss me?" "When can I see you again?" "Yah, that was real fun." "That was our spot." "You know I always take care of you." "It's your world girl." "I always think about you."
No. Not at all. Because despite the familiar sounds and smells and tastes. That family album that was on the table the last time you two hung out, and Garibaldi painting that's over his fireplace collecting dust. The hum of his fridge that's so loud it sounds like it's coming form the tv, except it always get drowned out by banging, and squeaking, and slapping, and moans eventually. You could navigate his house in the dark like the back of your hand. Been there, done that. You look at him and think the same: Been there, done that. So while he's putting it down at 7:17am, you decide to put it to rest. You know better, and you want better. Congratulations. You're free.
Well doesn't that feel refreshingly unfamiliar?
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
I've been called a few names by the men I've dated (insert crude joke here). Some were cute (Topanga), some made me cringe (Lil' Mama), and some made me think, "What the fuck?!" (nigga, dawg, blood). Again, WHAT THE FUCK?
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
So please, for your own sanity, just leave it alone. Let them be. If they want to be with you, they will. And if they're stupid enough to walk away, be smart enough to let them go.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Are you done crying yet? OK good. Hopefully the rest of this blog doesn't make you cry even more.
After watching what I believe is the best video game trailer (if not best trailer PERIOD) I've seen in forever, there were a few things I wanted to do:
1) Play the game
2) Watch the movie I hope they make of the game
3) Cast the movie that doesn't exist yet
4) Have sex with whoever plays the dad in this movie that doesn't exist yet and
5) Hug every single dad I know (and don't know) that was a man about his shit, and took responsibility for his children despite the circumstances.
BRAVO FELLAS, BRAVO.
While this originates from something as silly as a video game trailer about an island of zombies, I'm dead serious (no pun intended) about this post. They say the effects of a girl not having a mother in their life, and a boy not having a father in his life are traumatic. That it just wouldn't be the same if a father took his daughter shopping for a prom dress, or if a mother taught her son how to play baseball. I totally see the legitimacy in that. It's almost like me not having any girlfriends, regardless of how much I may be "one of the boys" (i said almost). But I still think it's hard either way, to have one or both of your creators look down at you and think, "Nope. Not worth it," and walk away.
I know that's not exactly how it happens, but coming from someone whose father's signature isn't even on her birth certificate, trust me - that's how it feels. Every story is different, and every "situation" is meant to be justified but I just can't fathom how you can look yourself in the mirror every morning while you let someone of your own flesh and blood walk around the Earth as if they didn't exist.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Friday, February 18, 2011
"You say you've seen too many things,
that turn out to be too good to be true
Against your better judgment, opened up your heart,
'til you found the joke was on you ..."
And because I'm a sucker for samples, here's the original covered by someone I'm probably related to somewhere down the line.
Once again, HAPPY FRIDAY!
She got it MADE.
Ribs, sweet tea, and the game. Only way to spend a rainy Tuesday.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
You ever wake up in the morning feeling like shit, then you go outside and it looks like shit? So your like "Fuck my life, just shoot me already!"? Yah, that was me this morning. Wah-ing, just waiting for a huge gust of wind to blow a big rigg right on top of me. But the longer I waited for it to happen, the more I got soaked by Hurricane Let's Knock Abi While She's Already Down instead, so I snapped outta it and laughed at my dumb ass all the way to Bart.
I heard New Edition's Can You Stand the Rain, and it really couldn't have been more appropriate. There's a shit storm outside, and inside my head isn't any more stable. But. I've somehow managed to convince myself that EVERYTHING WILL BE OK. Maybe not now. Maybe not tomorrow. Maybe not for a while. But, everything will be OK. Because I will MAKE IT OK. Imagine that. I'll probably have an anxiety attack in 15 minutes, but the simple fact that I can even say the words, "everything will be OK" right this very minute is pretty fucking amazing.
Like the song says, "On a perfect day, I know that I can count on you. When that's not possible, tell me, can you weather the storm?" Well, CAN YOU? Anyone and everyone can be there for you during the good times. But it's those who refuse to leave me during my worst, that I remember and choose to share my success, my happiness, my wealth, and my love with.
So can I stand the rain? I mean, not really. It's cold and my sox get wet, and my hair gets all fucked up. Dancing and splashing in puddles when dressed appropriately with nowhere else to go is cool and all, but I much rather be in bed canoodling and shit. But will I hang in there until the sun comes back out and it's all double rainbows and glittery goodness once again? Best believe it. And I ain't even flinching.
Giving up is for the weak and running away is for the scared. Mother Nature's a bitch, but I am of the same breed. Bring it on life. Now let's go get WET.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
I had the same person who told me not to judge him for his past, judge me by the people I hung out with. Another told me not to judge him by people he hung out with - then turned around and became everything he disliked about them. Cold world. But having an opinion is not only allowed, it's inevitable.
With popular analogies like, "birds of a feather flock together," it's only human to make assumptions. And often times, the assumptions are more than assumptions. But that doesn't always make it OK. It doesn't always make it fair. And most importantly, it doesn't always make it TRUE.
We are so quick to judge other people based on their background, what they wear, the people they date, the car they drive, the clubs they go to, who their friends are, the music they listen to, and their FB statuses, etc. etc. etc. - which to a certain extent can be legit. But honey let me tell you - you don't know someone, 'til you really know someone. And you can't really know someone unless you get to know them yourself. Have we not graduated from the 12th grade yet? Do people not have their own minds to make decisions on their own anymore?
In high school girls thought I was a ho 'cuz I hung out with a gang of dudes. Yet, they couldn't name and prove a single guy I fucked *blank stare*. So how about before you go calling him a coke head just because 3 of his friends are ayo for yayo, you catch him anxious as hell with a bloody nose and some strange white powdery substance under it first?
People make mistakes, but it's not the mistake that define the person. It's the lesson they learn from it and how they bounce back from it all. I can tell the difference between people who just don't know any better, and the ones who do but do the fucked up thing anyway. But most of all, I can tell when someone is still a good person despite their flaws.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
When I was going through it - and I'm talking anxiety attacks, weight loss, sleeping pills, therapy IT, I was blessed enough to have the support system I did. Ultimately, I got myself out of depression. It was my willingness to finally forgive myself, and eagerness to allow myself to be happy that did that. However, I can honestly say that without my friends, it would've been twice as hard. And so I vowed from that day forward to never abandon those I care for in their dire time of need. No matter how discouraging it may seem, I will stay in their corner, and hold their hand while they walk through helll.
The thing is, they have to want you in their corner. They have to reach out their hand to you. And this is where it gets tricky. One thing I learned just yesterday, was that you should never have to be alone, but everyone deals with demons differently. The ones that constantly need baby-sitting, never know their own strength. And the ones that refuse help are usually the ones that need it the most. So the only thing you really can do is just be there for them. Even if it means doing absolutely nothing at all.
Most of the time people don't need advice, they just need to know you haven't given up on them, or that they're not alone. And when they're ready to stop drowning themselves and swim back to shore, they'll let you know so you can toss 'em a life preserver.
And if they never do, just remember that "The only people you need in your life, are the ones that need you in theirs."
Choking on these emotions I promised I would never allow myself to feel again. Trying to make sense of things that shouldn't even matter but do. And now I'm manifesting these thoughts into voices. They're yelling at me. Telling me it's all my fault and now they have to go and clean up the mess I made - AGAIN. I can hear me in my head now too. I'm crying. I hate when I cry. I'm apologizing through my sobs, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." The me in my head is sitting in a corner, her head down and arms wrapped around her knees.
But in reality, I can't see the tears going down my eyes so I gotta make the blog cry? That's by far the most corniest shit I've ever said but it's true. Have you ever heard something so funny that it made you laugh so hard that you opened your mouth and absolutely nothing came out? Or when you know you dun fucked up and your mom is so pissed at you that instead of whipping your ass she gives you "the look," which is then followed by silent treatment and it's so bad you wish she'd just beat your ass? Like seriously, you want to just hand her the belt yourself?! It's kinda like that.
Instead of cry, scream, break things, or punch walls - I do absolutely nothing. And that's the part that scares me the most.
Monday, February 14, 2011
My brain is on a hundred, thousand, trillion. Sometimes I feel as if these thoughts are too mcuh for my tiny self. Shit, I'm only 5 feet tall. If you could picture it, words are spilling out my ears. I think I sneezed potential book titles onto my napkin earlier.
It's 8:57 and I start work in 3 minutes and I'm not even at the tunnel yet. The worst part is I don't even care! I'm at work now, transcribing everything from my phone onto here. Pretty sure I should be working instead. I can tell it's time. It's different than before. I've never been excited for this long. Usually the momentum wears off in a day or two. Not this time though, my adrenaline has been waking me up at 5am.
Ness just text me. I love her. I don't tell her very often. I might not have ever told her at all. But I do. And I'm lucky she hasn't told me to STFU yet. Everytime I THINK I'm going to start something she's there with encouraging words that get lost in me being comfortable and scared. This has been going on since the days of me wanting to be in the fashion industry - yes, THAT long ago. I'm surprised she hasn't given up on me yet or at the very least rolled her eyes at another mentioned endeavor of mine.
I finally downloaded some songs onto my iPhone. Finally. I've been using Pandora which is why I've already used 65% of my data plan. The only reason I did was so I can play Ambitious Girl on repeat. I remember blogging that song sometime last year. I thought it was cute and inspirational. The lyrics were witty. Aaaand, that's about it.
Then I heard it again and apparently at the right exact moment of my life 'cuz it had a whole new meaning to it. It made me cry of course. I'm a cry baby don't you know? Commercials make me cry. At least I'm not crying right now while listening to it on a crowded train full of sick people and a field trip of 4th graders. God, I love kids.
I don't know what's going on. And I don't know what took so long. But I'm glad it's happening. And I'm going to make sure it never goes away.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Public Enemy #1 the reprise.)
I am the reason why you two aren't together. I am the reason you've been inadequate. I am the reason you are alone. I am the reason it didn't work out. I am the reason you are insecure. I am the reason you can't get a job. I am the reason your cat died. I am the reason you got a flat tire on your way home. I am the reason why that bird shitted on you. I am the reason you just got a paper cut. I am the reason you are unhappy.
All because I'm young, and free spirited, and pretty, and fun, and most of all - SINGLE.
Because I would never, ever want me and the ladies I love to all be in healthy relationships where we prepare food in the kitchen and talk shit about your OCD, and his ugly handwriting, and the fact that he can't spell, while you, him, and he bbq in the backyard. I would never want the kids of my best friends to be best friends with my own. And God forbid my girls have awesome boyfriends that treat them well to give me faith that men like them still exist. That concept makes no sense at all. NONE.
Because I would much rather party, and bullshit, and go to Cabo and force your girl who wasn't even your girl anymore to come with me so we can join wet t-shirt contests, have bottles of Patron poured into our mouths, have one night stands, and do all the things I don't like and wouldn't do single or taken anyway. Because I would much rather have us cry in a circle about our failed relationships over ice cream, than celebrate our amazing relationships over Moscatto during happy hour. Because the woman you love is spineless, and doesn't have a mind of her own to feel, cry, laugh, and make decisions for herself. Because misery loves company right?
Honey, I ain't miserable.
Otherwise I'd be spending this coming Monday sabotaging relationships, slashing tires, breaking hearts, raining on people's gay parade, and hiding out on a rooftop waiting to snipe Cupid right between the eyes. But instead I'll be celebrating love (better than celebrating hate right?). Whether it be celebrating the love I have for my boys by playing wing women for them. Celebrating the love I have for my girls by watching romantic comedies on their living room floor. Or most likely, celebrating the love I have for myself over a glass of wine, and a 1,081 page book on literary agents.
But if it makes you feel better to point your finger at everyone else but yourself, handle it. If it makes you feel better to put the blame on me, then go right on ahead (even though I really think you're giving me too much credit). 'Cuz then maybe, just maybe, I will also be the reason you wake up, grow up, and take responsibility for yourself.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us."~Marianne Williamson
I've blogged that quote before. And I understood the concept behind it. But it wasn't until the other day as I was listening to Ambitious Girl that I felt it.
I had it on repeat all morning. I wrote a blog inspired by it. Then after about the 5th repeat, around the "Go girl, go girl," part I started freaking out. I'm talking lightweight "Quick, someone hand me a paper-bag to breathe into." Soon after, I began to cry. I was scared. But for once not because I was worried (even though I am), and not because I felt discouraged (although I am). Not because I was scared to try and fail, but because I was scared to try and succeed. Because SHIT JUST GOT REAL.
I find it funny that it's easier for me to imagine failure, than success. I see myself now in my little bat-cave, surrounded with crumpled up balls of tissue paper, wallowing in my own sorrow. But when I envision me sitting behind a table with a Sharpie in my hand, and a line of smiling faces in front of me? It gets blurry. I think about the talk I had with my boss this week, and what will soon follow - and on the inside, I'm going ballistic. B-a-n-a-n-a-s. My fingers are shaking right now as I type this.
Because I'm scared that once I take this path that I've been refusing to walk on for the past 5-6 years of my life, I may just find myself exactly where I need to be. That I may just blow the fuck up. That everything will be amazing. That along the way I'll meet someone that knows exactly what he wants too. That I'll be successful. That my reality will be better than my dreams. That I will be able to take my friends out for dinner at an expensive restaurant and make it rain on these hoes. "I got this bitches." SAY WHAT?
I'm scared that things will be so good, something bad is bound to happen. That everything will be falling so perfectly into place, that somethings bound to fall apart. Out of all the talented, driven people out there, why me?
And then I read the rest of the quote:
"We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be?"
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
I was looking through old pictures on what my girl likes to call my "(ex-boyfriend) photobucket" lol and we came across a very special one. One whom although I am not even the least bit in love with anymore, I still got mad love for. And the one thing I loved the most about him, was his ability to take on a task and OWN IT.
He wanted to learn how to snowboard, so he went with his "mentor" one day and is now better than him. He wanted to learn how to ride a motorcycle, so he bought a fake license and popped wheelies with the best of them. He wanted to learn how to play the drums, so he bought a set and taught me a lil' something in the process. When he saw something he wanted, he got it. How else do you think he nabbed me?
Fellas, there is nothing sexier than watching a man DO WHAT HE DOES. Whether that be producing, playing ball, performing, writing, or facilitating a business meeting. Whether you're an entrepreneur, actor, graphic designer, photographer, baseball player, doctor, or a fucking rocket scientist - if it's your DREAM, we're wet for them ... and you.
So gentlemen. If you have a dream. Grab that shit by the neck, or pull its hair, whatever floats your boat, and show it who's the boss (no Alyssa Milano). 'Cuz it's not just those arms that we think are sexy, it's the way you throw that football with them. We want those hands all over us, because of the business plans you write with them. And we're undressing you with our eyes, because we can see in your eyes, the ambitious girl you see in us. Now how about your dreams, and my dreams go have some sex. No quickies please.
"I like the person you are but I'm in love with the person you have the potential to be. And all your dreams sharing with me, and your secrets baring with me. And the flaws, you ain't even gotta mention to me."
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
HE'S JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU.
him: i don't want to know
her: but i can't figure out if my thighs are sore from lunges or reverse cowgirl
him: lmao wowwwwwwww
him: what are you talking about? penises are ugly
him: vaginas are beautiful
her: HELL NO
him: i just want to lay in a bed of vaginas
him: and doggy paddle my way through them
her: lmao grosssssssssssssss
A few minutes after we ordered, a husky mailman in what seemed to be his late forties took a seat near us. I then noticed him glancing over at me every so often during the rest of our meal, but not in a creepy, "I want to smell your panties," kinda way. He finished before us, got up, paid his bill, and left, but not before stopping at our table.
"I overheard you guys talking over there. Well, only you were talking (yah, thanks asshole), but I was listening," he said in a heavy Latin accent. "What is your dream?"
I remember it taking a few minutes for me to answer because my initial thought was, "I'm sorry WHO ARE YOU?" Instead I said, "I want to write a book." He then went on about how I sound very intelligent (suckerrr lol), and remind him of his eldest daughter. "You should definitely write the book." Again, WHO ARE YOU?
"Who's stopping you from writing the book?"
I gave him a puzzled, "Um ... no one?"
"Who's stopping you from writing the book?" he asked again, unconvinced.
He smiled at me. I smiled back. Then he left.
This happened to me months ago but I still remember it rather vividly. I mean, how can I forget a complete stranger that had more faith in me ... than ME? It makes no kinda sense. None. At all. So people, think twice before the next time you question yourself. Because there's really no reason for someone to believe in you, if you don't as well. You ever try to help someone that doesn't want to be helped? Exactly. You ever want to punch them in their larynx after? Thought so.
I looked at the front door and saw my knight in shining mailman hop in his white mail truck and mouthed the words "thank you," even though he couldn't see me. Then, I turned back around, finished up the rest of my pho, and secretly promised to dedicate a chapter in my book to him.
For now though, I hope a blog will do.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Later that night she brushed her teeth before she went to bed and mid molar cleaning she noticed his toothbrush again. She wasn't exactly sure how she felt about it or him, but to her that toothbrush said, "I plan on staying for a while," and she didn't mind that.
About a month later, he thought they were moving too fast. There was a slight bump in the road, and she threw away his toothbrush. Then he got mad that she threw away the toothbrush. Then she got mad that he got mad that she threw away the toothbrush. So then he bought another toothbrush for her house, and this time she didn't fight the notion of him leaving it there 'cuz once again she thought he planned on staying for a while.
The next day he said that they didn't have a good foundation and just weren't meant to be and left her.
"What was your foundation missing?" I asked. She didn't know, there was communication, honesty, respect, and from what everyone could tell - they were crazy about each other. "What happened?" I said. Again, she didn't know. They had just spent the entire weekend together, an amazing one at that. "Are you going to throw away his toothbrush again?" I asked attempting to make her smile (it didn't work btw). "I don't know," she replied.
And that's the thing. WE DON'T KNOW. WE NEVER KNOW.
We spend all our lives looking for signs and signals from the universe. Adhering to the "rules" of relationships. Telling ourselves that if someone leaves a toothbrush at our house, can see us in their future, and feels as if we're everything they've been looking for, that ultimately - it's a wrap. Until their bi-polar ass tells themselves amidst the smiles and laughter and genuine feelings for the other person, that it's just not "meant to be". Based on nothing except for the fact that they keep telling themselves they're just not "meant to be."
So now they'll never know what would've happened if he just put his ego and insecurities aside. Maybe they would've fought their way back and he would've hurt her later down the line. Maybe she would've got sick of him acting like a 13 year old girl in a 28 year old mans body and bounced on her own. Or maybe? They would've spent every day the way they spent their last one; laughing, happy, full, and orgasmic.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Friday, February 4, 2011
YOU are the master of your fate. YOU are the captain of your soul. It's kind of ridiculous the things we are capable of doing, and the amount of happiness we can feel when we tell ourselves we can do it and we deserve it.
Read the rest of the Tiny Buddha article here.
-For a no fuss but unique Valentine's Day dining experience, try American Cupcake on Union St. where not only do they have RED VELVET CHICKEN WITH CREAM CHEESE MASH POTATOES and every single kind of p&b sammich you can think of, but also beer and wine cupcake pairings. That shit should be illegal. For anyone that does go please let me know the must haves, I dying to check it out!
-Because a girl can never have enough clothes, one more swag plug. Nothing says V-Day like pink and hello kitty. So don't forget to cop your Adapt x Ashley Vee collabo gear in both colorways, and click here to check out details for this weekends meet & greet.
-If all else fails - EVERY GIRL LOVES FLOWERS, especially when they're sent to her work. I promise you regardless of what kind you send, she will appreciate them ... long as they're not "I'm sorry I cheated on you with your best friend," flowers.
-I'll do an actual Valentine's Day post when the time comes but in the mean time you can read what I wrote last year here, and what Jozen of Until I Get Married wrote here because I agree with it 100%. Have a wonderful weekend everyone, it's gonna be a gorgeous one in the Bay :)
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
A while ago on Formspring someone asked me what my definition of a good/perfect man was. I laughed at the thought, drafted a blog about it, and never looked back. Until my sister from another mister emailed me the quote above, and I finally found the inspiration to finish.
Seven years ago, this list would've been long, tedious, unnecessary, and most of all RIDICULOUS. He would've had to been tall, hot, have tattoos, body piercings, not be a player, make me laugh, have goals in life, have a good job, know how to fight, be sweet, have some sort of talent, be athletic, own a car, know how to drive a stick, be able to dance, have nice shoes, dress steezy, yadda-yadda-yadda. Good God I was so dense.
If you had asked me this question three(ish) years ago, this list would've been non-existent. I would've either said, "They don't exist," and cried myself into next Wednesday or said, "Fuck love!" and got shit face. Good God I was so difficult.
The funny thing is, I still don't believe there's a perfect anybody out there. I've even lost a little faith in the "good guys." And to be real honest, I still like my men tatted up with rhythm. The only difference is now I know what is real, and what is possible. And while I still have my preferences, I know what's important and what matters. It's not lowering your standards ('cuz trust I still have high but reasonable ones), it's planting a strong foundation that you can build on so that later, you don't have to tear anything down. Build up without building walls.
I feel like the older you get, the less requirements you have in the opposite sex. However, we're more strict with these requirements because we recognize what we will and won't tolerate.
And just so you know, my list today consist of integrity, respect, communication, drive, and humor. It may sound like a lot but these are things I expect in myself as well. So if there's someone out there reading this and shaking their head deeming me demanding, I'm SORRY. I'm sorry ... you want so little from yourself and from a partner, for real.
Today is a new day. A new opportunity to follow your dreams. Take advantage of this blessing. Take that leap. Whatever your dream is, you have to step towards it. The more steps you take the more the universe will conspire to assist you…
If you want to run a label, quit your job at the bank & intern at a label. If you want to be a doctor, apply to school today, etc. I wanted to act, so every week I go to acting school for 14 hours, study film & actors, read about projects, etc. Once I took steps, roles came.
A girl replied, how can I pay my bills if I quit my job to follow my
dreams? – when following your dreams you will be temporarily inconvenienced. Tyler Perry was HOMELESS years before becoming a MILLIONAIRE. Only you can determine the amount of sacrifice your dreams are worth.
Before 106 I had a job making 30k but I wasnt happy. I quit. Moved to NY, worked small jobs to get by, & lived on @FredWhit FLOOR 8 MONTHS! I just meet so many people that want to reach their goals & then complain when it sounds hard! Go watch Pursuit of Happiness
Everybody has a different story. U may have kids, mortgage, bills, etc. But God is powerful. There is always a way to follow your dreams!
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
And just because I miss my stomach being this flat (RIP), here's a trip down memory lane during what I think was me and Ash's last gig together. Didn't last very long though, management feared for our safety that night (wtf right?) ... but at least we got paid an hour to dance for only 20 mins, holla!
Angelina Jolie (in her prime).
Ten reasons I'd ever turn lesbo. Although I'm sure that list will have grown by the time I'm finished with this post.
You've heard me say it plenty of times - women are fucking beautiful. Have you ever ate lunch on a nice day on Washington Ave. in South Beach? I swear I could eat Argentinian food and stare at models walking to and from casting calls all day. But despite the fact that I oogle more women than men, can get off to girl on girl porn, and rather go to a gentleman's club than watch the Thunder Down Under - I could never, ever play for the other team. And here is why:
5) I'm not gay. It's really that simple. You know how gay people are usually sure they're homosexual? Well, I'm sure I'm heterosexual. I love the gays. But I'm not gay. No, really. Some of my male friends are reading this right now tilting their head, giving me that, "Come on Abi," face, but TRUST. I've never even gotten really wasted one night and kissed a girl for fun. It seems like a rite of passage for girls nowadays, but I dunno? Just never had the urge to? I've grabbed a titty or few and licked a face. Humped one of my girlfriends from the back at the club and slapped their ass but that's about it. Sorry? lol.
4) Women are a fucking handful. I should know. Even the most chill ones got a 'lil cray cray in them just waiting to be let out. Whenever someone says "I hate ___," they end up being secret fans. So lemme say I don't hate drama. Matter fact, I kinda like drama ... long as it ain't my own. Getting to the point though, why the fuck would I get with a human that has the ability to be just as retarded, emotional, and neurotic as me? NO THANK YOU.
3) Vaginas are disgusting. I don't care how "cute," and "neat," and "tucked in," and "virginal" looking your vagina is - it's ugly. Many will beg to differ, like my bff.We were driving one day and I showed him this vagina necklace. It was literally a necklace with a vagina pendant on it to which I replied, "GROSS!" and he said, "COOL!" So if you love the vag, awesome. I'm just explaining that I could never be a carpet muncher because there is no way in hell I'm putting my lips on those lips, looking like a roast beef sandwich . Looking like velvet flowers. Looking like meat curtains. I don't care if it smells like a Hawaiian Breeze Glade plug in and tastes like dulce de leche, it ain't fucking happening.
2) I love the D too much. L-O-V-E IT. No vibrating, gyrating, purple dildo with a bunny on it and pearls can EVER replace it to me. NEVER, EVER. This can definitely be argued but I'm just gonna go ahead and say it anyway: Ladies, if you prefer your pocket rocket over your mans mandingo, you either ain't getting fucked right orrr you're a lesbian! Matter fact, ladies if you're reading this and your mans laying it down proper, I want you go straight home after work, take out his penis, tell it you love it, and give it a nice big hug ... with your mouth.
1) Johnny Depp (in his prime).
Brad Pitt (in his prime).
Mark Wahlberg (circa The Big Hit).
Yah, ok. That list was only supposed to have 10 people on it but it just kept growing and growing but you get the picture. What can I say? Men are fucking beautiful too.