October 2002 Archives

I never heard a violent song by Run DMC.

Rest in peace Jam Master Jay.

Peter Piper is still one of the best songs in Hip Hop. I still get up and dance my ass off when it comes on.

Now Peter Piper picked peppers, but Run rocked rhymes.
Humpty Dumpty fell down, that's his hard time.
Jack B. Nimble was nimble, and he was quick,
but Jam Master cut faster, Jack's on Jay's dick.
Now little Bo Peep cold lost her sheep
and Rip van Winkle fell the hell asleep.
And Alice chillin somewhere in Wonderland
Jack's serving Jill a bucket in his hand.
And Jam Master Jay's making out our sound,
the turntables might wobble but they won't fall down.

Now Dr. Seuss and Mother Goose both did their thing.
but, Jam Master's gettin' loose and DMC's the king.
Cause he's the adult entertainer, child educator,
Jam Master Jay, king of the crossfader.
He's the better of the best, best believe he's the baddest.
Perfect timin' when I'm climbin', I'm rhymin' apparatus.
Lotta guts, when he cuts, girls move their butts.
His name is Jay, hear the play, he must be nuts.
And on the mix, real quick, and I'd like to say
he's not Flash, but he's fast and his name is Jay!

It goes a one, two, three and...

Jay's like King Midas, as I was told,
everything that he touched turned to gold.
He's the greatest of the great, get it straight he's great.
Claim fame cause his name is known in every state.
His name is Jay to see him play will make you say:
"God damn, that DJ made my day!"
Like the butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker,
he's a maker, a breaker, and a title taker.
Like the little old lady who lived in a shoe.
If cuts were kids, he would be due.
I'm not lying, y'all, he's the best I know,
and if I lie, my nose will grow
like the little wooden boy named Pinochio,
and you all know how the story goes!
Tricks are for kids he plays much gigs.
He's the big bad wolf and you're the three pigs.
He's the big bad wolf in your neighborhood,
not bad meaning bad, but bad meaning good!

There it is...

We're Run-DMC got a beef to settle
Run's not Hansel, D's not Gretel
Jay's a winner, not a beginner
His pocket gets fat while others get thinner
J-J-Jump on Jay like cows jump moons,
People chase Jay like dish and spoon
and like all fairy tales end,
you'll see Jay again my friend!
Huh!

Yesterday passed by in a blur. I worked all day, took my breaks alone and kept to myself as much as possible. I feel the red river creeping up and I know my nerves are on edge, so I don't want to snap anyone's head off unintentionally. This works because I've been doing more reading and more writing. I am becoming the world's biggest geek and you know what? I like it.

Presently I feel the need to observe more than I participate.

I got to chat with both Lynne and Jason last night. I felt treated.

I watched that $2 bill thing on MTV yesterday with Clipse, Pharrell and Fabolous. Pretty tight. Pharrell wants the world to know he's getting laid and he's a big fat NERD.

I went to bed early last night. I've been going to bed early the past few nights when I've had to work the next day. It is really paying off because I'm not as tired or crabby during the day. This is a trend I will continue.

I'm off to find a bottle of fruit juice and start my day.

Hope yours is good.

Friday night didn't turn out to be anything I expected. That's all I'm going to say about that.

On Saturday I got up early to go to work. I put in six hours and came home for a siesta. I had an appointment at five to get my ‘do fixed and I wasn’t missing that for anything. Yvette and I traded personal gossip while she worked me up. Saturday was a gray, cloudy day. It wasn’t too hot or too cold. When my hair was done Yvette and I went to claim our stools at the bar in the Macaroni Grill. There wasn’t much else to do. I of course had my raspberry lemonade and raspberry Stoly; she had her Courvosier. We sat and talked about relationships, psycho exes, people who don’t have enough business of their own so they are always in yours and bartenders who don’t know how to pour a proper drink. My phone rang in the middle of a psycho ex story and it was Pusha. He told me if I knew what was good for me I would be heading over to his house. Yvette and I finished our drinks and parted ways.

I drove straight to the spot. Slim and Tiny were the only ones there. Slim told me that Pusha would be right back and Tiny was locked in his room. Slim and I watched videos and discussed our plans for the evening. Then he told me a scandalous story of how Tiny had stolen $100 from him this past week. The people you think are your homies. I relayed a story to him of how Tiny had short sacked me once and then tried to pinch off the sack he shorted. We got a good laugh off of that. Pusha came walking in the door shortly after. I smelled him before I saw him. He smelled like ripe greenery. I followed him over to the table to see what goodies he had with him. He had twenty-eight grams of the prettiest chronic in the world. I flirted, cooed and played in Pusha’s hair until I had worked my way to a nice sized sack. Pusha then tried to convince me to get naked and lie in his bed.

“It’s cold outside ain’t it?”

“Yeah, pretty cold.”

“When you get cold Monique, do your nipples get hard?”

I rolled my eyes. “I suppose.”

“You going out tonight?”

“I am not sure what exactly the plans will be.”

“You should just stay over here. I got a bottle of Courvosier. We can lay up in the bed and watch movies. I won’t even try nothing. You can lay naked and everything.”

Before I have a chance to answer, my phone rings again and it’s T. He wants to hang out for the evening. I am looking for something different to do on a Saturday night so we decide he should come to my house. I leave Pusha and Slim and head to my house.

T gets there about thirty minutes after I do. We sit and blaze for a little while and then T decides he wants to go to Diversity to get a new pipe. I agree to go along because I want to get my nose pierced. We go to the one on the strip, taking the scenic route from my house. Las Vegas Blvd is an interesting site at night, especially if you are taking it from North Las Vegas to the strip.

When we get to Diversity T makes his pipe purchase and I look over the nose jewelry. I have decided on a piece with a blue gem on it. I ask the girl to show me what they use to pierce it. She brings out this huge needle and I suddenly feel like a punk because no needle that long is going in my nose tonight after I’ve been smoking and well, I just changed my mind. I tell T I will go back another day and do it.

We head back to my side of town, stopping at In N Out for sustenance. We watched Half Baked and laughed our asses off for the rest of the night. When he left it was 2 am for the second time. I stumbled into bed and passed out into good sleep.

Today I went to the movies with Yvette. We saw Sweet Home Alabama. It was a pretty good movie. Cute story. And now I'm home, maxing and relaxing. I am supposed to be hooking up with my cousin later, but it looks like that is not going to happen since I have called her cell phone twice and she's not answering. I probably need the rest anyway. Tomorrow is work. And the end of my weekend.

It's Friday and I am so happy. I'll need a big coffee boost to get through this day but I'm still ready. My girl Yvette and I are going to a poetry reading tonight. My cousin should be pulling into town sometime tonight or early tomorrow morning. I have a date with some friends to go haunted house hopping here in the city. They have awesome haunted houses out here and being the kid at heart that I am, I have to see every single one.

I sat down at my computer last night, in front of Microsoft Money and wrote out all my bills. Yes, I wanted these new fly ass boots that cost $200 but instead of buying them, I paid bills. I'm working on getting all my debt paid off. I'm also working on not buying things just cause I want them. I think part of what causes insanity in our culture is the need to constantly have things. I constantly want things but I'm learning to ask myself if it's something that is really needed. It's a necessary question, believe me. I have clothes in my closet that I've never worn if that gives you any indication. I'm still working on my bag to goodwill so I can donate all the stuff that I don't now and probably won't ever wear.

In the meantime, while I'm not buying anything, I notice my bank account starting to look fatter. This is a good thing because I'm telling you I was on a straight spending spree for about six months. I had to slow it down.

So since Yvette and I are going to the poetry reading tonight, that means I can't get my hair done tonight and it will have to wait until tomorrow. SUCKS cause my hair is through right about now. I need some attention from some Mizani products.

Oh, and the hair I rave so much about? Well here are some more shots. These are from the first time she cut my hair. I've actually cut more off since then but the general cut is still the same.

This is my mom's favorite picture. This is the original that the title graphic came from. Not bad for holding the camera with one hand and taking my own profile pic.

My mom doesn't think this one is as flattering. Look at the huge zit on my cheek.

I love taking pictures of me. Can you tell? Am I just a cam girl wannabe?

The week is just flying by. It's already Thursday. Tomorrow starts the weekend. I am loving it.

Flirting! A lot of that going on with several different people and I am just enjoying the hell out of it.

My schedule is filled with haunted houses, visiting cousins and friends from L.A. and dates to go out for evenings of raspberry stoly and intelligent conversation. Oh, you aren't hip to the raspberry stoly? Mix it with raspberry lemonade. Get back at me.

One of the radio stations here changed their format and now they are the best mix of old school and new r&b out there. It reminds me of KJLH back hme. I am so happy. On the way in this morning I heard Maze, Luther, Chaka, Stephanie Mills and Al B. Sure. I love hip hop just as much as the next person, but on the radio here they play the same people (anything Murder Inc related) over and over again and it's annoying. Yay for the new mix on the radio.

I am baking two pineapple upside down cakes tonight. It's my homeboy's birthday and I promised to be Betty Crocker for one night. If you really know me, you know how funny this is.

I'm getting anxious for Nanowrimo to start. Just eight more days. Are you in?

By the way, did you read Anil yesterday?

I have chocolate cookies on my mind again...

Imagine my surprise when I got a box from Amazon containing three books from my wishlist (two of which are still appearing on it for some strange reason) and the packing slip told me they were from my mom. Thanks mom, you're the bomb.

Yay for negroes who respect your wishes.

This thing here is way too addicting.

I went over Pusha's house yesterday. We haven't seen each other or had any dealings since the last episode so we were long overdo for some quality time. When I got there the only people at the spot were Pusha, Slim and Tiny. Tiny was in his room watching Monday Night Football. Pusha and Slim were in the livingroom watching television.

"What's up Monique," Pusha asks as I walk in.

"Not shit," I say as I sit my bag down on the nearest chair. "What are y'all doing over here?"

"The same thing. Not shit. Getting ready to have a session though."

He pulls out a bag of some of the loveliest chronic I have seen. Maybe it's just the fact I haven't had any in a while.

"Let me see that," I said and grabbed my camera.

"What do you have a camera for girl?"

"She's probably building a case against us. Check her ass and make sure she's not wearing any wires," Slim said and they both grab me and mock frisking me.

"Pusha, don't let that be your way of copping a feel."

"Oh girl, please. For real though, why are you taking pictures of weed?"

"I love taking pictures of anything. Just yesterday I took pictures of my mom, myself in various reflective surfaces and my pancakes I had for breakfast because they looked so good."

I pull the pancake picture up and show it to him.

"What's that on the side of the plate? A notebook? What, you were taking notes on the food as well?"

He gets a kick out of this and so does Slim. They both have a hearty laugh at my expense.

"Nigga, shut up and show me the weed."

"What are you going to do with pictures of weed?"

"Put them on my website."

"You are gonna go to jail."

"Whatever. I'm not naming names, places or telling who bought what. Just show me."

He held the bag of weed up and I snapped a picture.

"Ooh, I don't know if I like the way that picture came out. It looks a little dark. Put it on the table and let me take a picture of it that way."

"Wait, let me make a presentation first." He takes some weed out of the bag and arranges it on the table in a small pile.

"Oh, I don't like the way that one came out. Too much flash. Let me try it again."

"Girl, we ain't gonna sit over here all night and wait for you to take pictures of weed. I guess you consider that shit art. I consider it holding us back from the cipher."

"Calm down negro, let me try it one more time."

"Oh, this is a good one. I got the cigarillo, the chronic, one of the sacks and the handscale nigga."

They start laughing.

"Good," Pusha says. "Let's smoke."

The blunts are rolled and passed back and forth and we converse on subjects ranging from which WNBA players are the hottest to how good Serena looked in that catsuit. We spend an hour clowning back and forth before I decide it's time for me to go. I gather up my camera, put it in my bag and prepare myself to walk out of the door. Pusha is standing there admiring my bag.

"Ay, that's a nice bag Monique. What kind of bag is it?"

I'm not entirely sure so I have to look at it.

"Oh, it's Mudd."

"Where'd you get that from?"

"$18 at the Belz mall nigga. Run along and get you one."

"Why don't you let me have that one? You like Coach better anyway."

"This bag is cool."

"What happened to the Coach bag you always slinging on your shoulder?"

"It wasn't big enough to carry my writer's kit."

"Your writer's kit? What, you writing a book or something?"

"Something like that."

"I think I want you to tell my life story Monique. The streets from a real hustlers perspective. None of that bullshit they have in the movies. I want the real."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"I like writing stories like that."

"What kind of a book are you writing right now?"

"A gangsta's story."

"You probably already writing about me." He grabs my bag. "What the hell you got in here girl?"

I try to pull the bag back from him and Slim grabs me from behind. Pusha pretends to go through my things and then hands me my bag back.

"She got a big ass notebook in there. That's why her fucking ass is always taking notes. They gonna wanna come and interview us for the HBO special and everything."

We all start laughing. Pusha then starts to talk in a tone that he thinks mimics mine.

"Tonight I was at the Hustla's house. Nothing big happened. Only one or two smokers passed through. We smoked about three blunts. That is all."

I don't say anything. I just continue to laugh and grin at him.

"I really think you should write a story like that Monique. No one talks about the real shit that goes on."

"Mm hm."

"You gonna do it?"

"Yeah, Pusha, I'll do it."

You know what scene in "Baby Boy" annoys me more than others? It's the scene immediately following the scene where he knocks the shit out of Yvette. You know the part, she's accusing him of fucking Pandora (the girl who almost sucks his dick) and they are yelling and screaming at each other and she repeatedly hits him. Finally he strikes back at her and what results is one of the most over-acted scenes in John Singleton movie history (even worse than that scene in "Boyz N the Hood" when Ricky's mother sees him shot up on the couch). Jody, in an attempt to apologize to Yvette, gets down between her legs and gives her "oral pleasure" while she cries and envisions several different ends to their relationship.

Why do men always think they can solve everything with sex? Why do men always try to find the charming solution to a problem instead of just admitting that they were wrong, apologizing and moving on from it? Why, why, why?

I am struck with memories of a man that I used to be intimate with. Every time he did something wrong or fucked up, he would always try to whip out the "magic make up dick" and engage me in sex so that I would forget the problem at hand. It worked temporarily. During those thirty rough-riding minutes I was transported to a place where it didn't matter that he had messed up with me. As soon as the sex was over though, those thoughts would be back in my head. Always, with the same response from him.

"Don't mess up the moment Monique. This is a beautiful thing Monique, don't ruin it."

As if thirty minutes of sex are supposed to make up for the fact that he has done something to hurt my feelings. As if somehow my emotions are tied irrevocably to my vagina and arousing pleasurable sensations in one area will lead to a soothing of bruised feelings in another. It has never made sense to me.

Even if they don't try the make up sex angle, the "I'm too charismatic for my own good" attitude is never too far behind. He will try to make you laugh by doing all that silly shit you used to think was funny but only find to be mildly annoying now. Will these idiots ever learn?

I say impress me with your ability to admit you messed up, your incredible sense of purpose in attempting to not do it anymore and I'm sure things will work out much more smoothly with us in the future. Unfortunately, most assholes who do these things are too blind by their own needs and wants to see that what they are doing is irritating you so they continue to repeat the same stupid mistakes that drove you batty in the first place.

I'm rambling, aren't I? I said all of that to say that a person who is truly sorry does not repeat the transgression again. Someone who really wants my attention will be genuine in trying to seek it. They won't resort to trying to get the attention of those around me in hopes that I too will notice. Please, keep it real mmmkay? Don't try to be slick, play games or work an "angle" that you think will work on me. Be real. That is what I admire the most in anyone. Because believe me when I say I'm going to keep it real with you.

Real make up sex occurs between two people who have worked to find a resolution to a problem, have agreed and resolved not to do whatever was wrong in the first place and are firmly committed to making things work with each other on an ongoing basis.

Sex done to squash an argument, shut that bitch up or put her in a good mood so you can go out with your homies later is just fucking. Don't sugar coat it.

uhhh
You guys have no idea how bizarre this shit is getting. Seriously.

family love
My brother, lord cheez, is selling some t-shirts with his characters he's created on them. Browse around his site a bit and then take a look at his cafe press store. He may even be persuaded to do a special character request for a few extra bucks; you'll have to ask him though.

Sound the alarm
Whoa! Didn’t mean to ring alarm bells for anyone. You know I am not going anywhere. That post was referring to the fact that I got all my archives up. It was a chore that I had long procrastinated but I finally did it and now a years worth of Hideous Kinky memories up for all to see. My guts are spilled across the computer screen. I look back on some of that stuff and can’t believe I wrote it or was even feeling any of those emotions, but I am not ashamed of anything I said or did. Much.

Nanowrimo
I added my profile to the NANOWRIMO site today. I’m going to participate in it this month and I’ve decided to share the adventure with everyone so I have a special section of the site just for NanoWrimo 2002. I’ll be posting my notes about the writing process and progress, as well as the actual novel itself. I am setting a goal for myself of a chapter a night. We’ll see how it goes. I haven’t named the book yet. I am still bouncing ideas in my head about what I want to write about.

The Weekend
The weekend is upon us once again. I have plans to get a lot of housework done. Thankfully the cleaning lady comes this week so I will have some help. I volunteered to come in tomorrow to help another department with their workload. I am regretting the decision only as far as not being able to sleep in is concerned. Otherwise, I’m cool with it.

Men
This must be ex-man week because I’ve heard from two of my ex-boyfriends. Mr. J called me on my way to work the other morning to invite me out to eat at the newly open M&M Soul Food restaurant. He stood me up, but left a little comment on my site to let me know he was sorry. I spoke with Mr. T while I was waiting at Rite Aid last night. He got on me about not sending him the pictures I took while in L.A. as well as some recent shots of myself that I’ve taken since I got the new haircut. I better get on it I guess. Meanwhile, Pusha still slips in innuendo every chance he gets. We still haven’t done anything. I think he’s working on it.

Meanwhile, as I am writing this post my cellphone rings, I answer it and it's Mr. J asking me to take a break and come outside because he wants to see me. I'll be right back.

Edit: No this negro didn't kiss me on my neck as he was leaving. When I commented on it he asked me if it made me wet.

...

there is no more.

I am having the roughest time trying to import some blogger entries to this site. I took the lazy way out with the entries that are in php and no longer stored on the blogger server. You will find a link to them on the archives page. There is an entire group of entries from the month of December 2001 that I am unable to import for some strange reason. I will seek assistance on the MT forums tomorrow. Right now I am too tired to fiddle with it.

My cousin is coming out next weekend and we are going to some haunted houses. I'm looking forward to the fun. I will be a little incognegro for the rest of the week but I have some posts in the bank so you won't be lonely for my yammering.

I watched the Cedric show tonight. That boy is a fool. I hope he can keep up the funny.

There's probably no one in this world that knows me better than Ms Stella. The day I wrote "up in smoke" not only did she comment on my site, but she repeatedly ribbed me in person about my decision to not smoke weed. She kept reminding me that I go through this "I'm going to quit" phase every single time we run into a dry spell here in the desert. I assured her that this time I was serious and I would not be riding the green cloud with her again.

On Friday evening I was in my room playing PS2 and Ms Stella was in the den using the computer. Or at least I thought she was. I got up to ask her a question and when I came in the room she was gone. I sat at the computer and started writing, waiting for her to return. When she came back in the house she had a huge grin on her face.

"Where'd you go?"

"Over Pusha's house."

"You did?" I was shocked. She usually never goes over Pusha's house without me. "What were they doing over there?"

"Are you surprised I went?"

"Yes. What were they doing over there?"

"I called Pusha to see if he had any chronic and he didn't, but he told me that Tiny had some stress."

"And?"

"And I bought some."

"You did?"

"Yep." She had this shit-eating grin on her face. I knew what was behind the grin just as she knew what was behind my questioning. She pulled a Swisher Sweets Cigarillo box out of her pace and produced four neatly rolled blunts from inside of it.

"He rolled the blunts for you?"

"He sure did. He sold me two nickel bags. "

"He sold you two nickel bags and all you got were four blunts? I think we need to go back around there."

"I knew you were going to start talking shit. The bags were fine. By now they all know over there that if they try to cheat me you'll make me go back."

"Ok."

We sat there for a beat looking at each other.

"So, are you going to give me one?"

"Give you one of my blunts? Why would I do that? I thought you were quitting?"

"You know how it is girl. I want to smoke it while I use the bathroom."

"Don't make that your excuse nigga, just say you aren't ready to give up the weed yet."

"Don't give me a lecture. Give me the blunt."

"The only way I will give you this blunt is if you write this very story and put it on your website because I told you so."

"Okay, okay. Whatever you want, just give me the blunt."

That blunt lasted me three days. I didn't smoke and haven't smoked as much lately as I did previously. When I took the blunt, I vowed that smoking it would not prevent me from doing any of the things that I like to or need to do. Thus far I have been successful but we are only five days into the program. Still, it's nice to know that I have control.

Yesterday on the drive home I called Pusha to see if he had anything. He told me he was checking into it and I should call him back in a few minutes. Instead, Ms Stella and I just rolled on over to the spot.

Ms Stella always trips out when I take her to the spot. Yesterday was no exception. She wanted to wait in the car but I made her get out and come inside with me. Pusha wasn't there, but Slim, Tiny and another one of Pusha's homeboys were. They told me that Pusha had made the run to pick up something to smoke. We made ourselves comfortable and prepared to wait for him to come back.

James rolled a blunt and the session got started. Suga Free's cd was blasting from the stereo and we sat there smoking, rolling blunt after blunt and having discussions about life, work and west coast rap music. Ms Stella sat taking it all in, commenting on the lyrics of the songs that were playing and observing us being us.

Another one of Pusha's homeboys, Benz, showed up with another sack of weed. We continued the session and eventually Pusha showed up. We laughed and talked and smoked for a while longer. I noticed Pusha's homeboy Benz kept staring first at me then at Ms Stella as if he was trying to figure something out. He whispered something to Pusha and then Pusha began making introductions.

"Monique, you ain't never met my homeboy Benz? Benz, this is the homegirl Monique and this is Ms Stella, her mother."

Benz's jaw dropped to the floor. James looked at us like we were lying.

"That's your moms," James asked with a look of disbelief on his face.

"Yep," I nodded.

They sat staring at us for a moment longer. Ms Stella sat on the couch wearing a sleeveless v-neck black sweater and a jungle printed skirt with a slit up the side. She is over six feet tall and the majority of it is her legs which to date have not lost their shape. She gets complimented on them all the time.

"You do not look old enough to have a daughter our age," James said to her.

"Well thank you," she said.

"You kick it with your mom like that?"

"Yeah, I do."

"That's cute."

"Cute?"

"Yeah."

Ms Stella and I looked at each other and started busting up. She's been one of my smoking partners ever since I turned 18 and could actually tell her I smoked weed without getting my face slapped. I've always had what my friends in L.A. refer to as the Kool Aid mom. Even in high school my mother was the coolest, but that is a topic for another post.

"Well Monique, I didn't get any chronic," Pusha began. "I can call you when the homeboy calls me back."

"Okay. I guess you weren't really going to quit after all."

"Naw. Just took a two day break. What about you?"

"I guess weed will always be my friend. I just can't kick it with her as often as I did before."

Ms Stella got up off the couch. Both James and Benz stared at her. As we walked out the front door, I could feel their eyes on my back. When we stepped outside I turned to look at them. They were watching us walk to the car. As soon as Pusha closed the door I could hear the male bravado.

"Damn, her moms is FINE!"

They didn't know we could hear them through the window. Ms Stella turned to me and grinned.

"You really have to write that post now."

"You're right, I do."

how i'm doing
I feel a sense of accomplishment. I set personal goals for myself and I have been meeting them. It's a wonderful feeling. I have this sense of balance that wasn't there two weeks ago. All of a sudden, everything is starting to fit. I can get used to this.

I enjoyed my weekend and my time off and tomorrow I return to the world of work with a new attitude. I'm sure my employer will appreciate it.

I went shopping at the outlets tonight and only spent $50. I'm proud. I bought two bras (much needed) and a purse. Go me.

brown sugar baby
I went to see brown sugar this weekend. Anything I could have said about it has already been said by Jason and those participating in the discussion in his comments. Basically it was a good movie with good actors playing parts they have played before. Mos Def stole the show and I offically elect him as my new baby daddy. Erykah Badu's video for her song on the soundtrack is off the chain, especially the part when she raps with MC Lyte. I've always liked listening to Erykah rhyme. She did it on the Lyricists Lounge Show before.

a new layout
And so this is a new layout. I took a picture of myself with my camera and fell in love with both the reflection of me and the way the picture came out so I just had to use it in a layout. There you have it. I designed it in my 1024x768 resolution browser (IE 6.0). My apologies anyone who uses anything else (netscape/mozilla) because presently I cannot be bothered to fix it to look good for everyone. The permalinks for the entries are in the titles. Any other questions or concerns let me know.

How was your weekend?

Imagine my surprise when Pusha announced to me that he was burnt out on smoking weed. Pusha. Burnt out on smoking weed? I had that same slack-jawed look on my face too.

I am always amazed when someone who has been a constant smoking buddy suddenly decides to quit. It always makes me wonder when i will actually quit smoking and move on to other things. Seventeen years is a long time to be in love with the same mind-altering substance. I have gone long spurts without smoking, usually when there is a drought in town (like right now), but I 've never made the decision to just quit smoking.

When I smoke I write. I have written some of my best stuff while riding the green cloud. Sometimes I wonder if I would be able to produce without it. Then I think about all the times that I have produced without it and I feel silly. Pusha and I had a discussion last week about all the things they tell you about marijuana. Like how it kills your motivation and makes you stop doing the things that you like to do. I started thinking about all the things I used to like to do that I don't do any longer. Did I stop doing them because I smoke weed?

Yesterday I took a hit so hard that I started choking and it felt like my chest was going to explode. Sometimes I cough so hard to the point of gagging. I can only imagine what is going on inside my body.

I used to be this girl that had the bomb figure and couldn't walk down the street for more than a block without being whistled at, cat-called or any of those other annoying things that men do when they see women they find attractice. Psssst, hey baby and all that. The munchies killed all of that because I am soft and pudgy in places where I used to be lean and firm.

And so last night when I went to bed I thought long and hard about my relationship with mary jane. I thought about all the things we have been through, the good and the bad. There have been some bad times, I just haven't told you about them. Maybe one day. Suffice it to say that when I thought about it I realized that she is taking up space in my life that could probably be taken up by something more productive. I don't like feeling burnt out all the time, but if I were honest with myself I would admit that I do feel burnt out all the time cause I smoke so much. I'm sleepy all the time cause sometimes that shit is so bionic you can't do anything but sit there.

Sit there and watch life and everything in it pass you right by. I thought about all the missed opportunities, ways things could have been different and decisions I have had to make because of my relationship with mary jane.

And then I decided that I need a break too.

We never made it to the car show yesterday. I finally tracked down the website for it and we discovered that it cost $30 to get in and it was going to be over at 5. E didn't get to my house until 3:30 so that cancelled that idea. We went over to Texas Station and saw Barbershop instead. It was a great movie, Rosa Parks/Jesse Jackson/MLK jokes inclusive. I think maybe Jesse got angrier at the fact that Eddie said "Fuck Jesse Jackson" than he did at the jokes about Rosa Parks and MLK but that's just my opinion. Great story, laughter in the right parts, some messages and overall just a great movie. Four stars!

It probably would have been a better movie had the teenage mother brigade not come and sat right behind us with the whiny, fussy babies. These girls looked all of seventeen. They had on matching skirts with slits that went all the way up to the crack of their ass. They were trying to be cute by carrying diapers and bottles in their purses. One of the girls kept kicking my chair throughout the movie. At one point the whining and fussing of the babies got so annoying that I had to announce the key phrase of the day - "Get a babysitter or keep your black ass at home." It didn't do anything but I think they got where we were coming from.

After the movie I dropped E off at her car and I went around to see if I could catch Pusha. As soon as I walked in the door his nephews told me he had just left. They told me he rode to McDonald's but he would be right back. Then they started hitting me up for money. I found it amusing the things they were offering to do for the money. One of them told me he would clean out my car, vacuum it and wash it if I gave him $30. I told him the detail man doesn't charge me that much. He held firm on his price, telling me that the detail man can't do it like he can. I thought it was cute.

When Pusha finally came back, I let him know I had been chasing his ass down all weekend. I told him I had sat at the spot until 2am on Friday night tripping out with his sister in law and his nephews.

"You sat over here until two in the morning?"

"Yeah, I did. We were tripping out."

"You better be glad I didn't show up here at no two in the morning."

"Why?"

"Cause. What you think we were gonna do if I had shown up here at two in the morning?"

"Fire up another blunt and bullshit like we had been doing?"

"Hell naw. You know the rules. It's two a.m. we were going to have to get into something."

"Okay Pusha. You keep talking the talk. You let me know when you wanna walk the walk."

"Mm hmm. Went and got your hair cut, lookin' all cute and shit."

I started laughing and the conversation carried forward. Pusha is always making idle threats. He just moved into a new apartment not too far from the spot. I found it amusing that some of his family members were surprised to learn he had another apartment in addition to the spot. His sister-in-law kept asking questions about it. The conversation went something like this.

Sister-in-law: Pusha just got it like that? He got two houses to live in?

Lil Pusha (he's only 10): No. He lives in the other apartment we took all the stuff to.

Sister-in-law: Is Sallie Mae staying up there with him?

Lil Pusha: Nope. My uncle is a mack. He ain't havin' no females stay up there with him. Sallie got her own apartment too.

Sister-in-law: So if they both have their own apartments, what's this?

Lil Pusha: The spot.

Sister-in-law: What?

Lil Pusha: The spot! This is where it goes down.

I looked at Lil Pusha and started cracking up. Pusha doesn't have any children of his own so he spoils his nieces and nephews. Since Lil Pusha was named after him, he reaps the biggest benefits. You can't help but fall in love with him cause he's so cute. He wants to be a gangster so bad. I asked him to play hot hands with me and he said, "Hell naw. My uncle said you heavy handed. You ain't messing me up with those hands."

I got a kick out of those kids. I have more to say about it but this post is before work and I have to get going. I stayed over at the spot for a little longer and then I brought it on home so I could see the Sopranos. I have yet to be impressed or intrigued with this season's episodes. Am I the only one feeling like that? It's so weird. Maybe they ran out of things to do since it's going to be ending anyway. Who knows. It's definitely not the show I fell in love with.

Hopefully this week will breeze by and I can get into my weekend, during which I am going to party up with my sister.

What did you do this weekend?

Well, the car show started at 10am this morning and who knows how long it's going to be going on and I'm still not there. I'm presently waiting on my homegirl to get here so we can get going. It's not totally her fault that we are running late. She and I were on a three-way call with my sister making our plans for the next two weekends.

This coming weekend is my sister's 25th birthday. We've decided to rent a suite at the Embassy Suites and be ghetto fabulous for a weekend. The birthday dinner is on Sunday and on Saturday we are going to the USC/Berkeley game at the Coliseum.

The following weekend I will be in New York for another celebration of the Princess' birthday that does not involve parental units. Found a great deal on my ticket on Expedia so I'm all excited.

And now for ghetto cam shots. My cam is so ghetto and I know I need a new one cause the pictures always come out all grainy. It's okay though, you will get the point until I can upload the pics I took with my digital camera. So here are some pics I just took while sitting here waiting. Tell me what you think about the cut.

Okay and here's hoping we get to the car show before the shit is over.

Oh, why is Purple Rain on behind me. Furthermore, why am I sitting here reciting all the lines?

hair today, gone tomorrow
I left work and went straight to the beauty salon. I had been debating all day on whether or not I was going to let Yvette relax my hair or not. It has been over a year since I last had a relaxer put in my hair. In that time my hair has grown healthy and thick and I've gotten used to reaching up and feeling the kinky fluffiness. Still, I've always looked good with a short cut and I like the attention that the short cut gets me.

When I got to the shop I asked Yvette what she had planned for my hair. She told me she was going to taper the sides and back and leave the top long. The only way I can wear a cut like that is with a relaxer and I resigned myself to the fact that I would put a chemical in my hair again. I felt a lot better about that decision when I saw that she was going to use Mizani products. I love Mizani. When I lived in Charlotte, my hairdresser only used Mizani products in my hair (I was wearing a short cut then too) and I love the way the products make my hair soft and shiny.

So she relaxed it, cut it and curled it. The back and sides are cut really low and some of the top was cut, but not a lot. My hair is so cute and yes I'm being conceited about it. And she did it all in less than two hours so you know I was pleased about that too. I don't know about anyone else, but for black women going to the hairdresser can be an all day ordeal. I've been to Yvette twice now and both times she got me in and out so you know I am loving it. I promise to post pictures as soon as I buy new batteries for the camera and upload them(the pictures).

all dressed up and nowhere to go?
So with my new do and it being Friday night, I wanted to get into something. Yvette suggested we go to Boomerangs and have a couple of drinks. After a stop at the ATM and a brief flirtation with the security guard I was sitting on a barstool ordering my first apple martini. The girl working the bar brought me an apple martini so small it must have been sample. Yvette ordered Courvosier and I'm telling you that shot (it was supposed to be a double) was like one swallow.

I ordered a vodka (absolut citron) and cranberry and again she brought me a juice glass. I finally had to say something to her. Yvette complained about her drink and the girl gave us new ones made to our liking. By this time I was developing a nice little buzz. We sat and sipped and shot the shit and I really enjoyed Yvette's company.

Once we were sufficiently juiced we decided to leave. Yvette made her way to her home and I drove over to the spot to meet Pusha and Slim.

it's a family affair
I get to the spot and find that there are visitors from out of town. A whole slew of people related to Pusha in various ways. A lot of them are young and all of them I know. It's a birthday weekend celebration of sorts and they have all come down to participate in the festivities.

Watching the young boys is a trip. They had me greasing their scalps and listening to them talk all kinds of mess. They all idolize and emulate Pusha. They all want to be him when they grow up. Lil Pusha (who is actually named after his uncle) told me he was a player and he learned from the best. When I asked him who the best was, he said "Pusha." I cracked up laughing.

Pusha never showed up at the spot last night but it didn't matter. I was being entertained by the idle chat of youngsters who think they know so much about the world.

and then today
Today I went in to work for four hours because shopping is an expensive habit. I'm gonna play it by ear for the rest of the weekend.

I spent some time uploading archives for this site. I've gotten all the entries for the year 2002 up. The next step is doing 2001. Those archives are harder because I was still on blogger so there are like pages of archives that I have to sift through and add each entry. Taking the lazy route, I'm adding all the entries for one day into one single entry page in this version. I promise to keep a more organized site to make this kind of process easier for myself in the future. In the meantime, enjoy the offerings back there. I was having a good time.

What's up with you?

It's 1:29 p.m. and Friday drags on. I watch the people I work with go through the motions just as I am going through the motions and we are all waiting for one thing - the quitting bell that releases us into our weekend.

There's a car show on Sunday at Cashman Center and a bunch of us want to roll up there. I plan on taking my camera because supposedly there is going to be a hop off. I love cars. I love rims. I love it all. When I was younger my friends used to call me a car hop. It's something I can't help. When I see a man in a fat ride I am tempted to talk to him just because of the ride. Not that I want to use him for the ride but I at least have to acknowledge it. So I tell them that I like the car and I ask about the engine and the rims and the paint job and whatever else interests me.

I was reading cat daddy when I stumbled across this. I know I shouldn't be laughing but it was fucking funny.

I discovered that someone I really like runs a porn site on the side. Something I never would have guessed about this person. The discovery was made entirely on accident. I'm going to have tact and not link to it before talking to them first but I really am tempted to just show y'all cause god damn there's a chick sucking a big ole fat dick right there on the front page.

I was walking through the building yesterday and passed behind this girl who was adding an entry to her diaryland diary. I was so excited to see that I had to stop and say something. I love seeing people with blogs and diaries because I often feel like I'm the only geek I know that does this shit. Well, besides all of you.

I'm trying to get these hookers together so we can buy our tickets to see Def Comedy Jam when it's here the weekend of November 1st. You know how your people do. They say they are going to go then wait up to the last minute to tell you they aren't going to go. I'm not with that. I want us to know who is going. We are supposed to rent a suite at the Hilton that weekend so we can party on the strip without having to drive in all different directions to our respective homes around town afterwards.

It's funny how after living here in Vegas, I'm used to the club not closing until like 6 in the morning. In L.A. they start snatching your drinks up at like 1:30. My hairdresser and I were laughing about that the other night. We can buy liquor in this town 24 hours a day. These are the benefits of living in Vegas. Who wants to come for a visit?

Tonight I'm going to go hang with Pusha at his new place. I just talked to Slim and the preparations for getting the $$ pot going are already in place. We'll see what's up.

Whatchu got goin' on for the weekend?

Today has been one of those days when I feel like I’m on a cloud. I took an impromptu ride down the strip with my girls in the Denali, windows rolled down, Dre pumping on the stereo and six white people packed into a convertible Sebring riding beside us.

And damn. I said that shit loud. So loud that one of the people riding in the car (which had the top down) turned and said to me, “Don’t tell anyone.” I laughed. The stereo was so loud I didn’t expect them to be able to hear me. I thought I must have been talking loud to be heard over the music. It was then I realized that the Strip was unusually quiet. And it felt good.

We went to the Hilton to pick up tickets for the Sinbad’s performance Saturday night and found out that Def Jam will be here on November 1st and 2nd so now everyone wants to go to that too.

The weather in Vegas is perfect today. There is a breeze blowing that makes me homesick for California. The sky is perfectly blue and –

Holy shit. The sky just turned gray and it’s getting ready to rain. How funny. Oh well, I’m still happy, giggly, bubbly and in a good mood. It feels like Friday. I wish it were.

I like how me and my girls at work are like family. I love how we can go on break together and laugh and joke like we’ve been knowing each other all of our lives. I like how we know each other’s moods and quirks. I like how we take care of each other. You know how bitches can be when you get too many together. Thankfully our group of four is close-knit. We keep it in the family.

I love how no matter where you walk in the building you are sure to see someone walking with a cellular phone glued to their head. I like how a lot of my friends from my old job work here we still have that group bond we had going over there. I like how one of them just told me my shirt is pretty and he really likes it.

My homies want to go to the drive in tonight to hot box and watch Barbershop.

How’s your day been?