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My Fingerprint: Act 2

previous entry

I felt bad for my sister. These were her teenage years. How would anybody ever understand that she slept with her momma and her baby sister in the same bed? Luckily by this time my brother had moved out. I’m sure he was sick of the maxi pads, hair curlers and all the other girlish junk every female needs. My brother moved out and my mother migrated to the twin bed. Why she didn’t take over the queen bed is beyond me but I never questioned it. It felt good to finally stretch my legs in the bed without fear of kicking either of them. I didn’t like sleeping at the top anymore not if my momma was there. I didn’t have the security of her thighs and butt, so my sister and I switched places. She was on top and I was on the bottom and even with all that bed, I couldn’t resist jamming my feet up underneath her just so I’d know she was still there. Plus my feet stayed cold. She used to push me away and yell at me to move my freaking feet but she had to understand that I had lost the comfort of my momma’s warm body and it would take some time before I was able to venture in that great big bed all by myself. I never had a set bedtime and my momma never had to make me go to bed. We all just use to go to bed together. I don't know why. That's just how it was.

My sister moved out in 1986 to attend Hampton Institute, some thirty-two miles from our little blue house on the corner. My momma packed up the Chevette, four doors and a hatchback, and took my sister and all her belongings to one of the most prestige black colleges on the east coast. My sister would potentially rub elbows with some of the richest and smartest people she had known up to that point. My family didn’t take family vacations so we weren’t exactly exposed to how the other side lived. From what I’ve described, thinking we had the most common things like central heat and air would be just plain old silly. There was one air conditioner unit in my grandmomma’s room and one in our bedroom. We rarely ran the AC because we were comfortable sitting around the old dusty circular fan in the living room. It wasn't too far fetched not to have AC in the car either. The Chevette only had AM stations and I couldn’t believe my momma would go out and buy a car with no AC and no real radio. I couldn't believe it. Even still, we did the best with what we had and never complained about what we lacked. We were just thankful to have anything at all.

Our summers were filled with Vacation Bible Study and church trips to some packed, overpriced amusement park. Kings Dominion was our usual destination which was only and hour and a half ride. It didn’t matter that we went every summer; I was always excited to go “out of town” so I could eat my fried chicken and grape sodas wrapped in aluminum foil. They would stay cold the entire day. My momma usually worked six days a week with the customary day off which was always Wednesday. From the time I was born until the time the café closed down in 1996, my momma was off every Wednesday. She had a routine for that day. She’d wash our clothes in the washing machine that was on the back porch. It was big and round and took up way too much space. Two roller pins were attached to the top of the washing machine so she could feed the clothes through to ring out the excess water. Then she’d hang them on the clothesline that stretched from the back of the house to the trunk of a big oak tree on the other side of the yard. Our clothes would smell like bleach and outside, I hated it. If the weather was shoddy, she'd lug our dirty clothes to the laundromat. I use to go with her but as I grew older it became more and more painful for me to sit there and be quiet and wait for her to meticulously fold each piece of clothing she took out the dryer. Another staple in my childhood that I hated. Washing and folding clothes.

The summers were hot and since we didn't have central AC, we made due with two window air conditioning units, one in each bedroom. We rarely used the AC anyway because if we used them both at the same time, it would trip the circuits and we’d have to go flip the switches back in order for the power to turn back on. My grandmomma usually ran the AC in her room on the weekends and we’d each take turns going in there to cool off if only for a second. Plus the only telephone in the house was in her room until my sister had gone to college and come home for the summer. She called the phone company and had a phone jack installed in our room. We had finally arrived! At least in my mind we had.

I hated the winter time even though it didn’t get cold like talking ‘bout it in Suffolk. To cut down on expenses we used two kerosene heaters, one in the living room and one in the kitchen. My momma would take the kerosene can to the gas station, no matter how cold it was outside when it ran out to fill it up. Whenever the heaters needed refilling, we’d have to go out on the back porch in the cold and refill them. That was far worse than ducking and dodging to dump the pot. I don’t like being cold and I hated the smell of kerosene because I could never seem to wash the smell off my hands. That smell stayed with me for years. That and the smell of bleach.

I used to sit so close to the front of the kerosene heater that the skin on my legs burned from the intense heat. It was well worth the pain. I loathed getting out of the warm bed in the early morning hours to wash up for school in the iron tub in front of the kerosene heater in the living room. I filled the tub with hot water from the facet in the kitchen and bathe standing right in front of the heater and hoped that I didn’t get sick or freeze to death in the process. I hated the winter time. I hated it! I hated it! I hated it!

I use to hover on top of that dang heater like my life depended on it and in theory it probably did. I could never get warm enough. I was always chilled down to the bone no matter how many layers of clothes or blankets I had on. This could be the reason why as an adult I turn the thermostat up to eighty degrees when it’s barely chilly outside. I can go without a lot of luxuries in life but I can not stand and will not be cold.

The big oil heater that took up about a third of the living room space always kept the house nice and warm (we only used it when the temperature outside was near or below freezing during the day) but my momma always turned it off at night. Oil was expensive and we had to be conservative and make it stretch as long as possible. Plus the house was made of wood and we all feared that if we left the heater burning overnight, we would somehow wake up and be engulfed in flames. To avoid a disaster of that magnitude, we piled in the bed and tried to use our body heat to keep as warm as humanly possible. It was pure hell because I was never warm enough. As the temperature dropped, we had to make sure we left the faucets running so the pipes under the house wouldn’t freeze and burst. Luckily that didn’t happen too often because it would’ve been unlikely that we would have enough money to replace broken pipes.

To be con't...

My Fingerprint: A True Story

I’ve shared bits and pieces of my story with a few folk and the reaction is usually the same – mouth open, eyes wide, speechless. I couldn’t make this stuff up even if I tried, I’m not that creative. This is who I am and why I am and I can’t be ashamed, afraid or apologetic because it is what it is. I will forever be my momma’s daughter and my daddy’s secret.

I was born on Monday, July 15, 1974 at or around 12:55 in the morning. My momma pushed all 7lbs 15oz. of me naturally through her small size eight frame. I came out calm, cool and collected just as I am today. I am the youngest of three, my brother, SB is ten years my senior and my sister, Sissy is six years older. I am the baby of the family and I can’t deny that I did not enjoy all the perks. I can not tell a lie, I used it to my advantage every chance I got. My momma was twenty-nine when she had me, four years younger than what I am now and I can’t imagine raising three kids alone. That is why I honor her and give her the utmost respect. She is truly my rock and the epitome of strength and courage. I asked my momma why she named me Wanda Monique. When I think about the name Wanda, all I can see is an old white woman with a bunch of cats so I was more than curious to know my momma’s reasoning. She said her first name choice was Tara Monique but her roommate in the maternity ward had named her daughter Tara. Had my momma and her roommate discussed the potential names for their brand new daughters? No. My momma wanted Tara but she got Wanda and I’m sure she would not exchange me for the world. I was destined to be here and destined to be Wanda which is of German decent and means “wanderer”. My birthday is 7-1-5, my birth weight was 7-1-5 and the time I was born can be manipulated into 7-1-5. I am here for a reason, my story says so.

Me, my momma, and my two older siblings lived in a four room house on the south side of Suffolk, Virginia. The house was made of wood and painted the ugliest color of blue I had ever seen. It wasn’t sky blue or the color of water it was just a loud variation of the two. I hated it because everyone knew the blue house on the corner. The front screened porch ran the entire width of the house. The house was divided into four evenly square rooms – two bedrooms, a living room and a kitchen. The back screened porch was an even smaller square that was cut from the kitchen. There was one food pantry and one closet so you can just imagine the clutter and chaos with one adult and three children sharing the same small space. It did not help matters that my grandmother also lived there but only on the weekends. She performed domestic duties for a white family in Virginia Beach during the week in exchange for room and board. My grandmother worked for the same family until early 2006. She was eighty-one years old when she finally retired. I have a long and strong legacy of hardworking women and independence runs deep down in my veins.

One bedroom was jammed with two beds, one full-sized and the other twin-sized. Me, my momma and my sister shared the full-size. Me and momma slept up top and my sister slept at the bottom. Every night we’d climb into bed like it was the most normal thing in the world. I’d throw my little leg on my momma’s hip because she slept on her side facing the bedroom door. My sister would sleep in the opposite direction so that I was smashed in the middle of butts and thighs. My brother had it good only because he could stretch his thin, lanky frame all over that twin-sized bed and not worry about where his foot or elbow ended up. He was living the good life and didn’t even know it. The other bedroom belonged to my grandmother. We were not permitted to go in there, let alone sleep in there when she wasn’t there. Five nights a week, while me, my momma and my siblings slept in a cramped bedroom sat a perfectly unused bed fit for a queen. Why didn’t my momma use this room as her own during the week? That’s something I’d never ask my momma about because I already know the answer. Nobody wanted to hear grandmomma’s fussing, so we did whatever it took to appease her. “Who’s been in my room?” she’d holler. Nobody wanted to deal with that so we left well enough alone and continued to sleep like one big happy family in a square room in the square blue house on the corner.

What really limited and suppressed my social skills as a child was the fact that not only did I sleep with my momma and sister every night but I also had to make sure none of my friends ever found out that I didn’t have indoor plumbing. The outhouse sat a few hundred feet behind the house, hidden among wild brush and low hanging trees. God forbid if anybody saw me sneaking to empty the “pot” we used in the house just so we wouldn’t have to go outside every time we had to pee. The pot reminded me of a pot somebody would use to cook a bunch of spaghetti in. It even had a lid. It was just tall enough to slide underneath the bed just so we wouldn’t have to stare at it and be constantly reminded that we did not have a toilet like regular folk. I was always afraid of the outhouse. It wasn’t big as nothing, just wide enough for you to go in and sit down on the high plank with a hole in it. I always wondered what lurked beneath the seat every time I had to go in and dump the pot. Each time somebody did ‘number 2’ in the pot they had to dump it unless it was at night then we would just pour a gallon of bleach in the pot to kill the smell until we were able to take it out the next day. I remember on many occasions gagging as I pulled off the lid to do my business and saw that somebody had already done their business and didn’t dump it. You can imagine that the pot stayed full with three kids and one adult. Somebody was either carrying the pot out, bleaching the pot or using the pot. I absolutely hated it. My grandmother had her own special pot and just like her bedroom, you were chastised if you used it. How would she know if we used her pot during the week? Sometimes I’d sneak and use it just so I wouldn’t have to duck and dodge all the kids who played up and down my street. If they would’ve caught glimpse of me trying to hide and sneak to the outhouse to empty the pot, I would’ve just died....

To be con't....

My Medley

Somebody Done Touched Me

Thanks to Ms. B I've been touched...

Great.

The rules of the game are:
A). Link to the person that tagged you and post the rules on your blog...
B). Share 7 random and/or weird facts about yourself...
C). Tag 7 random people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs...
D). Let each person know that they've been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

Well alright! I'm not sure what else I can even say about myself given I've pretty much summed everything up in my "pieces of me" series but let's see what I can come up with (read: make up).

1. Sometimes I forget to scrub behind my ears. It's gross so I'mma go head and just move on.

2. I used an "outhouse" until I was in the 10th grade. Up until freaking 1991 I was shyt'n and piss'n in a pot and carrying it to the outhouse to dump. *blank effin stare*

3. I don't like lotion. I never lotion my legs/feet unless they are showing. I don't have time. Hmpf.

4. I have never tricked or treated in my life. So I ain't passing out candy. Do not come to my house.

5. My boss sexually harassed me two years ago. Yep sho' did. Guess what I did? I told his old azz he did not want me to go to HR. He done worked here 30+ years and to be booted out cuz I make his dyck jump is so not cute! But that would be his destiny if he didn't leave me the hell alone. LOL! I told him that too. He calmed down immediately and in turn I get to do/say whatever I want. He is tentative like shyt around me now. Life is grand. Do not fuk with me.

6. I mystery shop. Easy money. Need I say more?

7. In 2002 I use to wear a size 26 jeans. No lie. Now I can stuff myself into a 14. And people say Jesus ain't real. LOL!

Ok that's all I got... who am I gonna tag???

Ummm???

Tasha
Cap City
Young Hot in the Tail Teacher
25 Single & Broke
Shai
Jali
GC

They all gonna be like who da hell is Durt and why she taggin me? LOL! *shrug*

Here Comes the Freakin' Bride

Need I Say More?

Durty

Burning Bush

Dayum California. What is really going on?

I'm just sayin'.


Durty

Wanna Know Who's Played?

Men who think.

Men who speak.

Men who breathe.

Thank you. Good night.

Manscaping

*from 40 Year Old Virgin. I loved that dayum movie. Hilarious!*

Male grooming has become all the rage. There are a number of businesses that cater to men only grooming sessions with services from back waxing to manicures and pedicures to full "release" massages. We all know what those are. Uh huh.

"You want me-sage? You want rub? Go in back. Ten dollar hun-nee."

I can't.

So ladies I'm asking yea or nay to manscaping? Does vomit lodge in the back of ya thoat (yea I said thoat LOL) when you see a hairy chest or God forbid a hairy back? What if the hairy chest lead to a hairy stomach that done lapped? (How ignant was that dayum sentence? LOL) Unibrow? Hairy fingers? Hairy toes? What about beady bead pubs? Ok, you know what? I'm feeling green! *gag* I gotta stop and regroup. My lawd.

*cleansing breath*

I'd love for Stunna to get reManstructed. We'd go to the salon, sit side by side in pedi-stations sipping chilled bottled water *complimentary* fussing over glossy magazines. He'd ask if he should get the peach cobbler or vanilla jasmine spa treatment and if parafin wax remedied cracked heels as the brochure promised. No way could he have cracked heels even if he never intended to show his feet to anybody other than me. We'd choose between a shiny top coat or overly buffed nails that glisten like an AB diamond and I'd secretly hate him because my nails would never look as lustrous as his. He'd reassure me, despite my dull and lifeless nails (Too Wong Fu buffered them for a good five minutes I know), that I had the sexiest nail beds he'd ever seen. He'd be heady with pride as he sat with his wet hands and feet drying under the electric blue light examining his newly pushed back cuticles. We'd bond and grow stronger and our love would last because he wouldn't dare leave me after I've exposed him to such a self satisfying gem, would he?

Is my living in vain? I'm just sayin'.

Real Real Random

Sometimes I get on my own dayum nerves. No really, I do. Now all last week I was sitting here adamant about not having a big "Here Comes the Bride...Again" type wedding right? Right. This weekend ask me what I was doing? On the internet looking for fabulous wedding dresses, photogs and venues. A fickled I.don't.know.what.the.hell.I.want mess. One minute I'm saying yes to it all the next I'm like hell nah. *sigh* But anyway. Such is my life.

I saw Why Did I Get Married. Cute movie. I loved all the characters. Blah, blah, blah. I wanted to see the Halle movie but read that the shyt tanked. I think it was ranked #12 or #15 or nother. I'mma still give her my lil $7.00. She can put it towards the baby or something.

I hate taking the train. If ya ass got an uncontrollable cough, why you on public transit? Why can't you sit your infected ass in YOUR personal vehicle and cough till you vomit inhaling and exhaling YOUR own filth? Instead you posted up on the train like you disease free. I.hate.you! Seriously!

Why do folks random dial? If I haven't spoken to you in a year of Sundays, why you calling me like "Hey Mo, what's good? You act like you don't know nobody!" What? I can not stand that. And because I've had the same cell number for freaking ever, bammas continue to call. Case in point I got a call/message on Friday out the blue. "I was thinking about you.." Umm ok. DELETE. I can't be bothered.

This weekend was Howard's homecoming and the World Bank/IMF conference. DC was off the dayum hook. That's why I stayed my boring ass right in Dumfries. I don't like confrontation and them protesters be on some other shyt.

I've been looking for some cute flats for about a month now. How come the round toe flats hurt my feet? It's like the toe part be too short or something and I can't have that. I need comfort people.. comfort!

I've come to realize that I can not define the texture of my natural hair as silky and curly. It just ain't in my DNA. *sigh* I'm walking round with a head fulla thirsty cotton and got dayummit I'm proud. Perms, weaves, gels, spritz, sprays can kiss it. I am Kunta. Give me free!

I called one of my girlfriends that I grew up with on Friday. I haven't spoken to her in a while. I left a message and she didn't call me back. Am I being ignored? I think my feelings are hurt. Who knew I cared so much?

*Yawn* that's all I got people. Have a fantabulous Monday! Holla atcha girl..

Durty.

2nd Time Around

I'm planning to get remarried sometime in the near future. NO! He has not popped the question and presented me with a fabulous ring but that's neither here nor there, I know that it's coming. I got faith the size of a mustard seed. *Shut up*

What is proper etiquette when you fitna say "I DO" for the second and hopefully the last time? Does the fact that your first marriage (read: huge mistake) only lasted 60 odds days determine whether or not to go all out on the second one? I'm just sayin *shrug*.

I can't see myself planning another "church" wedding. It's too time consuming and who really feel like doing that all over again? Not I, although I gotta be honest, planning the first one (read: huge mistake) was stress free and easy. Everything was good except the dayum marriage. Go figure. What a joke!

My soon to be fiance husband said he's cool with whatever I want to do but I feel like it should be all about him. Ya know since I've had my time in the spotlight. I can do without all the bells and whistles. I just want his last name and rights to his benefits (read: life insurance :-) j/k). *sigh* I don't want to pick out a venue, wait to see what their availability is and build my day around that. Nope. Not feeling it. I wanna go to Vegas or on a cruise. Something spontaneous. I don't want any bridesmaids or ringbearers or flowergirls or ushers or any of that stuff. I don't need a buncha dayum flowers (what the hell do they do with all those flowers afterwards anyway??) or a buncha family and friends eating and drinking up all my hard earned money at the open bar. No suh, not on my dime. You only get one free party outta me. You do the math.

What kind of dress do you buy for a Vegas wedding? What's an appropriate color? White? Cream? Red? Black? *crackin up* Finding a dress for a cruise would be easier although I know I don't want the cinderella, ballroom, fairy tale look. *sigh* Definitely not my type of swag. I want to be classy and elegant. Side note: don't you hate when folks be like classy and elegant. I'm like shut up already. Classy and elegant show from the inside out not vice versa. Hmpf! Anywho, I wanna be classy and elegant *lol* but not over the top. What is a girl to do?

Reality says to sit my azz down and wait for him to propose but I don't live in reality so whatev! I am being proactive so that when he does act like he got some got dayum sense (read: propose) we won't have to waste time with the preliminaries. *giggle* I am so smart.

Holla atcha girl

Durty

Freakin' Hilarious!

I absolutely love this woman!

Hard Dick & Tricks

Hard Dick & Tricks Pt.2

Happy Hump Day! Holla atcha girl.

Durty

Even More Pieces

I can not believe it's Friday already. This week has flown by! Well I'm back with even more random, useless info. Enjoy.

126. October 5. High: 90 degrees. The world's ending. Soon.

127. I was never allowed to participate in Halloween as a child. Did it scar me? Not so much. Dressing up and begging for candy never appealed to me anyway. *shrug* Am I passing out candy this year? Doubt it.

128. Kirk Franklin is freakin brilliant. I love his song Imagine Me and that new one he got out (can't think of the name of it). If only I could get pass the image burned in my head of him sitting in a hotel room stroking his jank watching porn on pay per view. (y'all saw his interview on Oprah right?) *sigh*

129. Last year around this time, I was in Egypt. Fukin awesome!

130. I just found out my momma took out a life insurance policy on me when I was a freshman in college (1992) because I started dating this dude that lived in S.E. DC. She said she needed money to pay for my funeral cuz I was living the "fast life" back then. Isn't that something!?! My feelings were hurt for like a day.

131. My grandmomma (she's 82) had never been to an airport until this past Sept when I took her with me to go pick up my sister. Can you imagine that? All ya life and never been to an airport. Nevermind getting on an actual plane! Crazy to me! I don't think my momma's ever been on a plane either!

132. I have a hard time swallowing pills. It freaks me out.

133. I am so amazed by every day things. Have you noticed how most trees especially along the highway are all the same height? Isn't it awesome how babies are made? Blue sky, green grass, brown dirt? Airplanes? I am just amazed.

134. I can not eat fried chicken from Popeyes or KFC. Nope can't do it. It's something about the slimy skin. Ohmigod I'm freakin gagging!

135. I could really do without peanut butter.

136. Who came up with words?

137. It's almost that time...to..start... CROCHETING! YAYYY! If only the weather would friggin cooperate. (see #126) hmpf!

138. If I see one more thing about Brit Brit I swear foe Gawd and all HIS diciplines I am gonna SCREAM! Do I really care about her and her disaster of a life? I got my own disasters! *eye roll*

139. Looks like I'll be donating my shoes to charity. *sigh*

140. I just joined this awesome book club thingy. I never could figure out what to do with all the books I've read. This is great! It's the small thangs people! The small thangs!

141. I am a CNN junkie!

142. HGTV has lost it's thrill. Do we really need another redecorating show? I mean really!

143. I am an introvert.

144. I am so not interested in politics at all. I am not moved by Barrack. I don't care.

145. Went to my first Hooka Bar a few weeks ago. Aside from the tangy pit foreigner that insisted on holding his arms up in front of the fan, it was great!

146. I barely ever drank alcohol. I'm too grown fa that!

147. I can't remember the name of the dude I "went out" with for a few months after my high school graduation. Hmmm. When I do my numbers, I always seem to leave him out. LOL! What was his name? Dayum I hate when that happens!

148. I don't hold any regrets. I AM my experiences. Wouldn't change a thang!

149. I have a timeshare that I don't use. Talk about throwing away money. Just retarded.

150. I am content.

That's all I got. Have a fantastic holiday weekend.

Durty

Letting Go

Status Report: What a difference a day makes! I'm feeling a hellava lot better today. I woke up sleepy *lol* but not as bad as yesterday. I ironed only one outfit. I shat'd so the gas is gone *GLO-RAY* and I've embraced the fact that I look like Esta damn!damn!damn! Rolle *smile* still a hot mess but I'm ok widdit!

Somebody prayed for me.

Now on to today's topic. Over the weekend I cleaned out my shoe closet *sigh*. I am officially

LETTING GO!

I'm not sure if I wanna go through the whole e.bay thang cuz waiting for folks to bid urks me. What is a girl to do? Are there any other venues besides e.bay or good.will? I'm not in the right frame of mind to "give" my precious shoes away especially since they are all practically new *sigh*. Can I just make a dollar..sumthin? Am I asking too much? Dang!

Side note - If you see a pair you like (sizes 8 - 9) lemme know. Maybe we can work out something *wink*. For all you big foot heffas, sorry I can't help you.

Always on the grind,

Durty

Boooo!

I didn't wanna get up this morning I didn't know what to wear I ironed one outfit only to take that off and try on two more outfits that were ugh which made me late for sluggin Nothing fits right I had to drive in all that hellacious traffic I got gas all up in my shoulda blades My back hurts I'm pmsin Aunt Flow bout to make her presence felt I feel unpretty My scalp is sore cuz I can't stop messing with my beady beads This whole going natural thang is some shyt I got a sinus headache I ain't had none in a month of Sundays....

Happy freakin Monday people!

Durty

I'm Just Sayin

This past weekend I had the pleasure of seeing some "queens" up close and personal. Beyonce, Mary J, Kelly Rowland, Tina Turner just to name a few. Lemme set the stage. Me and some friends went to Club Choas. We'd been to one of these "shows" before but that was eons ago and we were feeling the need to do something different since it was her birthday. Uh huh.



Clap. Clap. Fantastic performancers.

We had a good time! But, what fascinated me the most were the men (gay and straight) who reached in their pockets and made it rain on these entertainers. No seriously. There were gay men (the majority of course), straight men, straight women (such as myself and my crew) and gay women all standing there ooh'n and ahh'n with our mouths open, eyes wide because it was truly a site to behold. Everybody and I do mean everybody held money in the air because this type of "artistry" was indeed dollar worthy.

Now on to what's got me so dayum puzzled! I for one am very open minded. Whateva floats ya boat is all good with me because who am I to say anything about what you like or dislike. *shrug* But somebody answer me this, what is the appeal with drag queens for gay men??? If you're a gay man why do you want a man that looks like a woman, titties, stretch marked azz and all (see pics above)??? *scratching my head* What is the attraction? Is it more of having the best of both worlds? When these queens came out to do their thing, you could see the men salivating. All of them! I can sorta kinda see why a straight man would because to him, he's looking at a woman nevermind the dyck and balls "she" got tucked tween "her" muscular thighs. So I'm giving the straight men some slack. I ain't gone lie, some of them had ME fooled because they looked so friggin authentic. LOL!

But the gays hooping and hollering and actin a fool???? I can't call it. I resign to the fact that I will never understand this culture no matter how much I love them. I'll party with them any day of the week because I know that I can shake my azz in peace. I'm just sayin.

Durty

Gift Givin'

Hey hey ya'll. What it do? I've been gone for a minute but I'm making a promise today that I won't be shuckin' and jivin' not doing regular post. Deal? Deal.

I've been thinkin (this can be real dangerous cuz my mind be all ova da place. Check out the "pieces of me" series if you need proof *sigh*). The holidays are right around the corner, Black Friday is staring me in the face and I have decided to *clutchin pearls*....

FORGO THE ENTIRE GIFT GIVIN', I'M GOIN INTO DEBT TO BUY YOU SHYT YOU DON'T EVEN NEED, I'M GIVIN YOU THIS CUZ YOU GAVE ME SOMETHING BULLSHYT!

I am done. I should not be stressed out tryna figure what to buy folks. Stunna can forget it. Nope, I ain't buying gift bags from Bath & Body Works! Nope, I ain't buying cologne from Macy's! Nope, Nope, Nope. I have enough Bath & Body shyt to last a lifetime and I'm sure everyone else does too. And if I buy one more bottle of cologne I'll scream! Nope, I'm not buying gift cards either! If you don't have it, you won't get it from me. Sorry. That's just what I'm feeling like these days. So to avoid all confusion let me make it plain...

DO.NOT.BUY.ME.SHYT.IF.YOU.EXPECT.A.GIFT.IN.RETURN!

(I'm not sayin you can't buy me anything if that's what ya heart telling YOU to do. Just know that the act of "kindness" won't be reciprocated on my end, k? K.)

Instead of using all ya lil monies buyin ridiculous gifts, why not open an e-savings account (ING)? Why not do a lil investing instead of throwing ya money away, on purpose mind you? We gotta think smarter people and realize that family and friends may hate you for not thrusting yourself in the throes of gift giving but I say eff it! If they get mad over some dumb mess like that then that's just too dayum bad.

Not only am I boycotting Christmas gift givin' but I'm also "SAYIN' NO" to Valentine's Day (I never celebrated that crap no way) and birthdays. No wait, I'll be lenient on birthdays cuz my born day needs to be celebrated with lavish thangs so that probably means that I gotta give lavish to get lavish Ugh.

Pray for me.

Durty

The Center Aisle

I haven't been to church in a while cuz I've been traveling back and forth to my hometown for the past month and a half. Although I was home AGAIN this weekend, I felt convicted for opting to get on the road early to avoid the crazy azz traffic on I-95 rather than attending church with my fam. Yesterday, I decided to get my church on and I'm so very glad I did! The sermon was awesome!

The youth pastor spoke (he ain't no more than 25 or so, if that) and got the congregation into a Holy Ghost frenzy!! Everybody was on their feet hollering and hallelujah'n as he led us on to/in to Glory.

After the sermon, he invited folks to Christ. You know the whole "If you don't know the Lord God as your personal Savior..." People were still up praising and worshipping and flapping their arms above their heads thanking God for His grace and His mercy.

As people started to settle down (nobody came to Christ) the young preacher said, "I know this isn't for everybody but I'm challenging you to give a love offering to the church. I'm challenging you to not only be hearers of the Word but doers of the Word. I don't want you to just say that was a good sermon, instead I want you to plant a seed of thanksgiving and show the Lord that you are because He is! I wouldn't ask anybody to do anything that I wouldn't do. I'm a senior in college taking 18 credits and my car acting funny but I'm giving $100 and I'm challenging you to give. Everybody who will give $100 please line up in the center aisle!"

You could hear a pin drop. No more hand raising, no more praising, no more hallelujah'n. Nothing but a bunch of blank stares.

I'm not comfortable with whole center aisle thang because who needs to know that I'm giving $100? But I did as the young preacher asked. Me and my raggedy checkbook stood in the center aisle and asked Jesus to forgive me for five-finger'n (read: stealing) parking passes from work last week. I pray $100 will cover it! *sigh*

Durty

More Pieces

Ok people, I'm trying to get back to some sense of normalcy so here goes *y'all pray for me* LOL!

101. I get my strength from my momma. She is a beast and she go-hard without a buncha talking. She is me and I am her.

102. I have a very imaginative mind. I see things as if they were. Real. Unreal. Doesn't even matter.

103. I can love you and hate you as a person all at the same time. It's complicated but it's true.

104. I wanna BE Halle Berry's baby and I am dead serious.

105. I've lived in the DC area since '92 and I have yet to meet a Redskin or a Wizard. I am so hot about that!

106. I hate when people ask me a billion (more than 2) questions. If I wanted you to know, I'd tell you. Ain't no need to be asking..geesh.

107. If it wasn't for the grace and mercy of God, I would be in prison right this second.

108. I delivered a baby on my own. At 16. Somehow I feel heroic although I know that I shouldn't.

109. I am unstoppable. Whatever I say, it is so. In my mind at least and really that is all that matters.

110. I watch gay (men) porn. Ya know with me having that whole penis envy thang. I'm gonna buss hell wide open. Jesus deliver me please! I got demons!

111. I should not feel like I'm old as hell at the tender age of 33. There has got to be more to the whole 30's thang than this. Dang. Thank gawd I look 25 or I'd just die!

112. I really don't care about the war (sorry Military folk & ya fam). Me caring means I'm using energy that I could put towards something I can actually do something about. *shrug*

113. My temper is like a rage in Harlem! I can smile like butter and spit fire at the same time! Don't fuk with me!

114. I love overly affectionate men.

115. People say that I'm nonchalant because I don't immediately get hype bout ridiculous, lame, retarded, dumb, unnecessary bullshyt. I gotta think first or else I'll only get to make one phone call and be somebody's bytch. No suh! I ain't ready!

116. I am my #1 fan. *smug*

117. I design jewelry. I got fiddy-leven jobs! Everyday I'm hussalin'...

118. My degree claims I'm a civil engineer. Imagine that.

119. I'm gonna go see a therapist. I am actually thrilled about it.

120. I don't like some people in my fam. No seriously. I.don't.like.them!

121. I cry like a baby when I am reminded that Jesus paid it ALL and that He knows the exact number of hairs on my head! Awesome!

122. I do not hold grudges. I forgive and say I'm out.

123. I hate stopping to get gas. What a waste of got dayum time! Ugh! I can not be bothered.

124. Why do people live (by choice) in hurricane/tornado/too much got dayum snow infested places? The purpose of North & South Dakota is what? I don't get it.

125. I never knew I was so opinionated. I guess I am. *shrug*

That's all I got! Holla.

Durty

I'm Still Here!

Hey folks,

I'm still here! I had a death in the fam so I was out taking care of business. I'm back and I promise I'll post something exciting real soon.

Holla atcha girl!

Pieces of Me, Volume VI

Click here to view Pieces of Me, Vol III

It's funny how listing 25 things about yourself each week is daunting and sometimes downright hard! I have to look back at my previous posts to make sure I don't repeat myself *so sad* cuz I'd like to think there are a million and one things I could share about myself instead of a measly 75. So...here goes.

76. I have a serious temper. Whenever I'm in an argument I usually walk away (I can actually see myself doing bodily harm to folk) because if I don't I'll be standing beside Mike Vick talkin' bout some "I have found Jesus...for now." right before my sentencing. Yea he said that dumb shyt.

77. I try to make peace not war. (look @ #76 to know why) hmpf.

78. I am an aggressive driver. I'm sorry I can't help it. When I get behind the wheel I'm ready to zoom NOT lolligag behind somebody who actually doin the dayum speed limit. Can you move yo ass over? Dayum! All up in my way.

79. I don't think Dave Chapelle is all that funny. I can actually do without him.

80. Jackie Warner from that show WorkOut (comes on BRAVO channel) is hot I don't care what nobody say.

81. I am a sex.ual devi.ant becuz this shyt intrigues me. Hand signals? Foot tapping? So there's a whole culture of "stall" sex? In a dirty ass bathroom? (I mean I know women's bathrooms are horrid and I assume the men's bathroom is too. Maybe not. *shrug*) Are you kidding me? I want to find out everything about it. Men keep ya feet planted and don'tchu dare reach down and try to pick up nothing! *sigh* LOL!

82. I don't have a problem with white people. I had plenty of white friends growing up. My family never talked about race, still don't.

83. I can not stomach the smell of hamburger cooking. Straight gagging!

84. I recently started shaving my legs. Recently as in five years ago. I'm 33.

85. I'm extremely quiet in a room full of strangers. I am not outgoing. I don't like small talk. I like to people watch and then go home.

86. I'm no good at "networking". (see #85)

87. I am not a phone person altho I will text and email the hell outta you.

88. I have had six different cars. Ford, Honda, Toyota, Jeep, VW and Hyundai.

89. I have written and published three novels.

90. I can not stand folk who gotta be the center of attention. Chill.

91. I would love to live in Houston. Don't ask me why. I've never even visited there. *mute*

92. What is the hype about NY? It's dirty and crowded and the people are overly aggressive. (Sorry fellow NYers) I'm just saying.

93. When I'm at home I weigh myself every time I pee. (hold up have I said this before??) I have the scale that calculates body fat and % water. Complete craziness.

94. When Jesus said to tithe 10%, I don't think that means financially and that's it. I think it's a combination of money and time (volunteering in the church). Just my two cents.

95. I am attracted/addicted to dark men with facial hair. Highlights (yellow men) need not apply. Ugh.

96. I get bored easily.

97. I see myself skinny *lol*. No, I'm serious.

98. I sometimes wish bad things on people but I quickly be like "I'm just playin Lord!" Cuz if something were to happen, I'd freak.

99. I am moody.

100. I'm ok with going to the movies, restaurant or anywhere else alone.

Did I just pull that out my azz or what? Geesh! Everybody have a happy, safe, blessed holiday weekend!

Durty

Where They At?

Hey people! What it do? I tried not to seem pressed about this and hold it and not blog until Monday morning. What-ev! We in a crisis ya'll!

So I went to my hometown this weekend and I hooked up with my homegirl. The heat index was about 106 so we decided we'd see what VA Beach was doing. It wasn't doing NOTHING. Nothing y'all. In 91-92, we shut that shyt down every weekend, all times of the night meeting, greeting and grinning. Me and her. My momma's tan Chevette. My pockets deep from waitressing at my momma's spot. Her keeping the time to make sure we made curfew. Me not caring cuz I wasn't the one with the curfew. Her caring too much cuz her ass was on the line. She is the ying to my yang. Fun times. Fun times.

We walked the strip. We walked the boardwalk. There were several mini concerts going on, a lot of folk milling around. With all that freaking walking and looking, we came to the same dayum conclusion.

We.did.not.see.any.handsome/attractive/cute.men.our.age!!! (30's)

Not a one! There were some "could be cute" ones but they were bunned up. Ugh. And you best believe those women were holding on to their arms, making their presence felt. I was rolling my eyes all freaking night cuz it was unnecessary. It was too dayum hot to be all up on folk staking your claim and shyt. It really ain't that serious! *blown*

Boo with the potbelly pushing a stroller. Not cute. U might as well of kept yo eyes straight ahead, you lookin at us becuz???
Boo with the thug-luv attire (wife beata, baggy jeans, sex in the eyes, beer on the breath). I can't and I won't.
Boo that was young enough to be my seed telling me he could handle all this. Wow.
Boo that couldda been our daddy looking at us like we were a 2-piece spicy. The nerve.

Serious crisis.

We weren't out there trying to get some burn (I'm spoken for) we just wanted something nice to look at. Something to say dayummmmmmmm about. My stock in men is at an all time low and this weekend ain't do shyt to change my mind.

Where all the good lookin brothas at? Can anybody tell me where the good lookin folk hang out?

Holla.

Durty.

Pieces of Me, Volume III

Click here to view Pieces of Me, Vol I

Click here to view Pieces of Me, Vol II

I thought it would be relatively easy to list things about myself but now that I'm at #51 I feel like I'm grabbing at straws. I mean am I really this boring? I thought I was some complex, forward thinking, non-conformed, beautiful, intelligent, can't.be.moved, black woman! *sigh* Yea ok, obviously I think way too highly of myself..

51. I.am.the.shyt. *lol* I do not suffer from self loathing or low self esteem. Nope. I know who I am and WHOSE I am. Stop playing.

52. I am passionate. I ooze passion. I breathe it. I AM it.

53. I love love. Character flaw? Perhaps but it doesn't stop me from loving hard. That's the only way I know how. For God so loved the world.. need I say more?

54. I am terrified of buying stocks/having a portfolio/mutual funds. The jargon intimidates me. Yields? No load fee? *scratching my head* But I promise I will cross this bridge real soon.

55. I am competitive but only with certain folk. I hate when Stunna beats my ass in chess and tennis. When he wins, I see red. I wanna fight. He's a competitor too ya see. Not.good.

56. I have penis envy. I want one.

57. I steal parking passes from work because I refuse to pay $13 to park somewhere I don't really want to be. What-eva!

58. Ok it's not like I don't want to be at work because honestly I do no work, it's just that an idle mind...yea you finish that and it's probably the main reason I fantasize bout married men. Becuz I ain't got shyt else to do between 8:30-3:45. (don't hate at my work hours).

59. I feel bad for Juanita Bynum. It ain't no joke when the ones you feel closest to you wanna hurt and destroy you!

60. I want a pet but I'm sure Mike Vick done effed that up for err'body! *bastid* There's gonna be a dog-buyin freeze *lol* watch what I tell you!

61. Tragedies are my wake-up call, my ah-ha moment. Someone close to my son was killed in a motorcycle accident. It rattles me when death comes so early and so violent. He was 24.

62. I miss my sister. I miss Sterling. I miss Tyler. I miss Tim.

63. I can not stop eating those vanilla wafer things. You know the ones that look like "x'd" cardboard and are filled with sweet vanilla stuff and a million come in one pack? When you bite into it, crumbs fly everywhere. I'm sure the ants in my house are having a field day. *ugh* They are the dumbest food ever but they sure are good.

64. I got a B-12 shot yesterday. *shew* I feel my metabolism shuckin and jivin as we speak! I'm ready to get up and do something! *energized*

65. I hate cleaning bathrooms and kitchens. I will put it off as long as possible. Maybe it is a good thing that I live alone?? Be glad for the small things. LOL! Nothing worse than somebody breathing down ya neck wondering why you not cleaning. Ugh!

66. I want to take a cooking/baking class but I don't want to eat what I cook. Too much temptation in the world! Carbs are the anti-Christ!

67. I am piercing my nose to go with my whole new bohemian thing I told you about last time.

68. I am obsessed with Bird from Soul Food. She has the prettiest skin and hair! I want to be her! I AM her!

69. As I get older, I *secretly* wouldn't mind moving back to my hometown *oh my* to hang out with my momma and Irmie (my granny). Life is SHORT and fam is all you got! When I go home to visit, me and my momma shut the thrift stores DOWN. We are a force to be reckoned with!

70. I like white choco lattes from Starbucks but I refuse to pay $4 when I can get bland coffee at work for free. I'm cheap.

71. My girlfriend asked me to be a mentor for teenage girls, like a Big Sis. I'm thinking to myself, I'd better not. What kind of role model am I? Geesh! Sometimes I'm jealous. Sometimes my attitude sucks. Most times I don't like people. Corporate America is bogus. College is dumb. I am bitter about my student loans. Nah, I better stay away from those girls.

72. I can not stop watching anything "bride" related. Bridezilla. Platinum Weddings. My Big Fat Fabulous Wedding. Whose Wedding Is It Anyway? *don't say 1 word*

73. I am NOT money hungry. I pride myself on this.

74. I am NOT a label-whore.

75. Hot sunny days make me smile. And sweat.

Have a safe, blessed, drama free weekend!

Durty

Lust of the Eye

In recent months, I can not for the life of me keep my eyes off older married men *sigh*. If anybody knows me then they know I have a soft spot for the youngins (no pun intended) lol. Times are a'changing. I can't pinpoint the particular day or special event when the bells started going off in my head but them bitches been ringin ever since!

Sidenote: I think Stunna knows about this blog and if what I'm saying is true honneyyyyy I'm busted!

It's bad enough that I'm looking salivating ova older folk but married??? No, not me! Yes.Me. I be so shamed cuz once I see the shining gold band my mind gets to wondering and imagining all types of crazy shit! No lie.

I saw this older brother (late 40's maybe) in a suit. My first thought? Sexiness personified. My second thought? I wonder what his wife looks like. Third thought? I'd like summa that! *shamed* Now see, I ain't the type to be spreading it all around that's sooo like middle '90s *lol*. And I seriously am not interested in having relations with anybody other than Stunna BUT that does not stop my mind from going there every chance it gets. Is this what happens when you're almost 35? If so, I ain't ready!

I mean am I really the only one with these impure thoughts? Y'all keep me prayed up before I go out here and act a dayum fool.

Durty

I Be Sluggin'

Formal definition: Slugging is a term used to describe a unique form of commuting found in the Washington, DC area sometimes referred to as "Instant Carpooling" or "Casual Carpooling". It's unique because people commuting into the city stop to pickup other passengers even though they are total strangers! However, slugging is a very organized system with its own set of rules, proper etiquette, and specific pickup and drop-off locations. It has thousands of vehicles at its disposal, moves thousands of commuters daily, and the best part, it’s FREE! Not only is it free, but it gets people to and from work faster than the typical bus, metro, or train. I think you'll find that it is the most efficient, cost-effective form of commuting in the nation.

For the most part I enjoy sluggin'. Sometimes I'm the driver, sometimes I'm one of the passengers. My incentive? The fact that it's free and it gets you where you need to go faster than the bus or the train. What I especially enjoy is the wide range of characters I see everyday! It cracks me up when I'm driving and I have two older white men with me in the car. Me, ethnic hair, big hoop earrings, R&B blowing out the speakers. Them, stiff suits, white starched shirts, striped tie, briefcase, newspaper. It's hilarious! I actually prefer to drive because I have more control that way. I hate getting in the car with folk who drive 1 mile over the speed limit holding up traffic or drive like a bat out of hell.

When I do ride, I like to get in the backseat. I'm not sure why but that's my m.o. Sometimes I'll get the drivers who want to talk (when I'm forced to get in the front) like this one lady who felt the need to tell me that she had ordered a fridge three weeks prior and it still hadn't arrived. Her, her husband and her daughter had to share a college dorm sized fridge and her husband was miserable. *blank stare*

Or the lady that had me in the back, a white older man in the front and she insisted on popping her dayum gum the entire time. I mean like sistergirl popping where you move the gum from one side of your mouth to the other to get more pop outta each chew. I wanted to smack her in the back of her dayum head. I was so embarrassed. And to make matters worse, she just HAD to talk on her bluetooth while driving. I mean that conversation couldn't wait until we got out the car? Did I have to know that she was going to Atlantic City for the weekend and had the babysitter all lined up? Why did she have to be one of us is all I kept saying? The stereotype is alive and well! Ugh! When it was time for me to get out of her car she asked who did my hair. I do my own hair hmpf. She asked if I did other folks I said nope with the quickness and got the hell up out her car. Her weave looked a dayum mess. I can't.

I often see the same folk.

Like this morning. I saw the lady (lady of color not sure of her ethnicity tho) that I rode with who had to tell us that she had bought her lil Dodge overseas cuz it was cheaper. She's military. She bought it so her daughter will have a car to use when she goes to college in two years. Oh and it's equipped with bluetooth and she let us know that it came with the car. As if anybody cared. Well she rode with me this morning and soon as she got in my car she asked if I'd had electrical problems with my car. Huh? Then she said she didn't know it was so roomy. What I wanted to say was you a dumbass for paying 20gs for that lil ass cramped Dodge when you couldda paid 12gs for a roomy Sonata. To prevent her from talking me to death I turned up the radio and kept my eyes on the road. Nobody feel like talking in the morning people!

Then there's the black guy in the blue car with the personalized plates. People still do that? Anyway. I've ridden with him a few times and each time he was blaring Ne-yo. I don't know why this bothered me? Couldda been the fact that not only was he blaring it but he was also singing along and knew all the words. Ne-yo? I'm just saying. He asked me if I had Ne-yo's cd *lol* and that he was feeling Tank's new one as well. I laid my head on the headrest and closed my eyes. That's why I hate sittin in the front seat! LOL!

I've ridden with a few white men and only one white women! The white men are usually young soldiers on their way to the pentagon in full army garb. It fascinates me cuz I'm wondering what do you do all day in your fatigues? Sit at a desk? I can't imagine it. I've heard stories of folks being over in Iraq and leading hundreds of men to people calling in sick although they ain't have enough time on the books. I've heard it all trust me and I absolutely love it.

Stunna always ask if I'm nervous about dealing with all these strangers and honestly I'm not. It's like I'm part of a carpool cult. You get in where you fit in and when you do you shut the hell up and ride. This is the life.

Would you ever slug if given the opportunity or would you be leary? Holla atchu girl.

Durty