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Why must people be on such fuck shit? Oh social networks, you never cease to amaze me with those grand displays of codependence. This this ass backwards way of think valid because of the words over a stock photo of Beyonce and JayZ? You know that very private couple who only allows the public glimpses of their relationship. I feel like Mugatu…I’ve been taking crazy pills. This kind of thinking is unhealthy!


Let’s unpack this though:


This whole thing reeks of insecurity and neediness. You can’t have trust without privacy. I don’t care in love you are, you’re entitled to some privacy. Unless you plan to merge into your significant other, you need some interests of your own. My SO and I have open computers, devices and such around with zero desire to invade each other’s privacy. We have phone conversations where we both have to step out of the room. I don’t assume the worst and neither does he because we trust each other. I trust my instincts above everything.


This “I’ll do whatever you want” tone is annoying. Compromise is everything in a relationship. You don’t have to dim your light to allow someone else’s to shine. You can’t possibly be satisfied like that. Being faithful to someone doesn’t require losing yourself in the process. C’mon, son.


So yeah go ahead and try to function in a relationship with no trust and privacy…let me know how that works out for you.


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Hindsight is 10/10

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As I wished her a happy birthday, I felt a familiar emotion. Longing.  I hate to miss people. I get a flash flood of memories and I feel like crap for the whole rest of the day. Not trying to live my life looking in the rearview mirror but I wish I could turn back time. I don’t have many regrets and I try to rationalize the ones I do have. This one I can’t really rationalize. I spent much of my life in a haze back then. I was in various states of infatuation, intoxication and insecurity. I had an uncanny ability to ignore the worst in people and live this Polyanna existence. It was a way to try and remedy the rough patches of my childhood. I was horrible at protecting my spirit knowing full well how sensitive I am. That combination of factors created a perfect storm and I lost something valuable.


I remember walking away from the MAC counter with her birthday gift in hand. Chestnut lip liner and Oh Baby lipglass. This paled in comparison to the gift of friendship she gave me. A person who absolutely understood me, even the parts I never revealed to others. Marathons of movies, traded booked and magazines, inside jokes and new words to our lexicons. We bonded over those long train rides after work but I know this friendship was willed into existence by our mutual friends. Started by mutual friendship and damaged by mutual friendship.


Some people thrive on chaos. I ignored the signs of resentment and various negative factors for a chance at freedom that I never experienced before. Friendships before this one were so full of judgment. I never felt free enough to leave my buttoned up existence as my darkest moments were thrown in my face. Sharks smelled the blood in the water and created chaos. While those friendships ran their course, they could’ve been done decently. Never again, I said. Just like that, I went from caution to recklessness. My biggest regret, bringing a friendship that was pure into a place I knew wasn’t. On the surface, I was happy that we were meshing well but deep down I feared history would repeat itself. It did and I allowed it. I could see the signs, felt the divide and played dumb. That Pollyana shit coupled with the 3’s company theory, I gambled and lost. The only person I can blame is myself. Naivete along with that aforementioned haze and down right stupidity caused this. Things escalated quickly and I wanted to be shocked but deep down I saw it coming. Chaos. I threw my harmony into chaos on some greedy shit. My friends can be your friends and we’ll all be the best of friends. I was wrong. I was so very wrong.

Things are much better, forgiveness and hugs. I still can’t help but think about how I put our sisterhood in harms way. On her birthday, I played the song we heard and said in unison, “I love this song.” I miss her. More importantly, I miss us. I’d give anything to have another delirious laugh seeing the sun after being out all night.

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Momma’s Boyfriend

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One thing you’ll learn about me is I’m passionate about child abuse. Very few things annoy me more than how normalized child abuse (physically, emotionally and sexual) is in the Black community. A problem that seems to stretch across race and class lines is child murderers who are in relationships with the mother of their victims. I can never understand what would possess a grown man to punch or choke a defenseless child. I know some stellar stepfathers who bonded with their significant other’s child(ren) and took on the role of father figure, so it just boggles me. There’s the theory that men lack maternal instincts and have a harder time bonding with kids that don’t share their DNA. That’s possible but it’s too broad of a generalization. There’s even been people who said the kid is a constant reminder that their SO has engaged in unprotected coitus prior to their relationship. C’mon, how up your own ass do you have to be to think like that? Whatever the reason, do not fight a child like that! What in the blue fuck could a 2 year old do to make your ball your fists and punch he or she repeatedly? Not a gotdamn thing! If you don’t like kids or you don’t have the patience to deal, DON’T FUCK WITH CHICKS WHO HAVE KIDS!! How simple is that?!?


Today, we heard the news of Adrian Peterson’s 2 year old’s passing after being brutally attacked by his mom’s boyfriend. WHY IS IT ALWAYS THE BOYFRIEND? Here’s my theory:


No little girl says, “I want to be a baby momma when I grow up.” The relentless shaming of single mothers created this need to have a nuclear family, by any means necessary. Having a child out of wedlock, in some circles, is the worst thing you could possibly do. There have been loveless shotgun marriages since the beginning of time just to keep up appearances. Some of these women just want a family or to play house. There’s nothing wrong with being a single mother. The same people talking shit about your child out of wedlock would’ve called you a murdered for getting abortion. We live in a sexist ass society! Desperation makes people throw caution to wind anyway. Do you really think anytime is taken to be selective? I’ve witnessed all types of trife life from moms when it came to their man. From cooking gourmet meals for the boyfriend while their kids had the sodium bomb that is ramen noodles to letting their boyfriends punch their little boys in attempt to “harden” them. Sick, sad world.


Now even though, a weak woman’s desperation may have set the stage, the primary blame is on any grown ass man who fights a little kid. Bitchassness to the max and beyond. It’s real easy to steal on a toddler because said baby can’t fight back. Guys, if your girlfriends kid is angering you to that level, walk the fuck away and never come back. It’s a matter of life and death. There’s NOTHING a toddler can do that bad, a toddler can barely articulate their thoughts! If you have put your hands on your girlfriend’s child and you read this blog, do us all a favor and go die in a fire. The Earth is a better place without scum like you.


This can’t be stressed enough: EVERYONE YOU DATE IS NOT WORTHY OF MEETING YOUR CHILDREN! They have to really prove themselves to you. Also, boyfriend =/= babysitter. Don’t leave your kids with your boyfriend just because your nose is open. Remember that scene in Baby Boy when Rodney kicked over JoJo’s fort, shit. like. that. happens. for. real. There’s nothing wrong with being protective of your kids. Even wild animals protect their young! If dude is hard pressed to be alone with your kids, red flag city.


Please be selective. Please be cautious. Please be protective. Even if you never planned to be a single mom, just be the best one you can be. You are not a part of any problem because you chose motherhood. Your kid’s welfare trumps appearances any day.


Please be honest, if you have no interest in her kids. If she insists that it doesn’t matter and want to be with you anyway (and I’ve seen this for myself), just go. The kids are a package deal, even when they’re adults…they’ll still be in her life. Please control your temper, these are little kids…not another grown man on the streets. Listen to me, if you don’t have the patience or interest in children that aren’t yours, move on. Like I said before, it’s a matter of life and death.


My heart goes out to the Peterson family and everyone else who has had to experience such senseless tragedy.

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“he likes you”

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When I was a little girl, my 2 neighbors knocked me off of my big wheel and put in their porch. Everytime, I tried to go up the stairs and get it, they threw rocks at me. The logical thing would’ve been to go tell my mom to go over to Mrs. Crowley’s house and get it. I was about 6 or 7 and that was asking too much. I went in my yard, grabbed our collie mix by the collar and walked her to the porch. I knew Tippie was mean (much like the Yorkie that was later named after her) to strangers. I turned her loose, she ran up on the porch and then chased them. Needless to say, I got in a WORLD of trouble. When I asked how could boys who I thought were my friends do such a thing, my mom told me, “they just like you.” Problematic.


For years, I thought being mistreated was a part of being a relationship. I rationalized getting all dressed up and then stood up with the same reason of getting my hair pulled by friend’s cousin. I spent a huge bulk of my 20s in love with someone who was nice to everybody but me. Simply because of the wack ass conditioning. The book and movie, “He’s not that into you” went hard on the excuses we make for getting treated like shit. I read it and so many of the scenarios were all off up in my business…still didn’t have a lightbulb moment. It took having a single moment of feeling so hurt, I could barely breathe. I know it wasn’t supposed to be like that. It wasn’t right. So many ideals and traditions that were passed down from patriarchal to patriarchal ass generation were dead wrong. Love won’t always be rainbows and glittery unicorn farts but you should never be purposely hurt.

Stop telling daughters “oh he likes you” when someone’s bonehead son mistreats her. Tell her that he’s a doucher in training who is being mean to her because he lacks home training. Just don’t have another generation of women who think being a doormat is acceptable.

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oh hai, part deux

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So just so you know….

New blog posts come out on Wednesday at noon, PST. Most of my blogs are written way ahead of time and are scheduled. There might be a current event that I’ll want to talk about immediately. If that happens, I’ll announce it via social networks.

I know it’s a pain to sign into WordPress but I’d appreciate the comments greatly. 🙂

If you like a post, share it. I’m not quitting my day job to be make millions of dollars as a full time blogger but the more traffic the better.

Thank you guys so much for your support. 🙂


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Baby fever

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I’m convinced this shit is biological. Perhaps, my body is fucking with me because I haven’t put a baby in it.

I love babies, don’t get me wrong. They’re cute and cuddly. They have little bitty clothes and shoes with ducks and bears on them. All you want to do is make them coo and laugh. My cousins, Hailee and Bailee, make my heart explode into a million pieces of joy confetti.

Here’s the thing though…they grow up. They are people with personalities. You have to make extreme sacrifices for their benefit and welfare. Their happiness takes more than a funny face or peek-a-boo. They’re expensive with their tuitions, ever growing bodies, activities and such. Children require time and resources that I just don’t have right now. I’m glad I realize that but damn it sucks from time to time. In my quiet moments, I wonder if I missed the boat. I wonder/worry about what kind of mother I’ll be. There are times when I see a baby and my uterus aches. The lowest moments are when I go looking at baby clothes on the Ralph Lauren website after a few well poured cocktails. I’m just venting…don’t cry for me, Argentina.

I like kids on an individual basis and not in packs. Lazy parents with unruly kids make me want to punch them in the throat. I still haven’t developed that amount of patience that will keep me from being that mom who comes outside in a robe to pop off at bullies. I’m also still delusional enough to think I’ll never feed my future kids any processed food. In my head, I envision myself making homemade Oreos and making organic bento lunches. I’ve given my future children perfectly ambiguous resume names. I’m going to perfect my “wait until your father gets home” for the days I’m not in the mood for the fuckery. Oh and I fucks with Doc McStuffins. I will sit down with a scotch and watch a whole episode. Shole will. I just might do alright at this Momma thing.

See though, I like sleeping until 10 on Sundays. I enjoy our spontaneous carpe diem dates and activities. My passport needs some stamps, dammit! I like to drink at home on the weekend. All the baby clothes I like are out of my budget. Most of the songs I like to play loudly aren’t appropriate for  impressionable kids. I like to spend my extra money on brunch and mani/pedis. I’m miserable when I eat too much, can I really grow a human? I can but a little later….

I believe the children are our future. Teach them well and let them lead the way. Show them all the beauty they possess inside. I know, I know LOL. Even though my body is impatient, I’ve always been a big fan of good timing.

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