Nice Blind Girl Seeking Nice Blind Man

My computer at work and at home have both been infected with a virus. If that isn't sucky enough, my stomach is starting to stretch again like it did in my eight month of pregnancy.

Damn food, why are you so good? You're making me fat again.

My sister told me this morning that I talk with a slight lisp. What the fuck? She said I sounded like the dude, Bill Nigut, the political reporter on channel 2 news. If somebody watches the channel 2 news in Atlanta, please let me know what the hell he sounds like to you. I never noticed that he talked with a lisp. Maybe I'm becoming to sensitive these days, but I really took offense to that. I don't talk with no damn lisp. Then to add insult to injury, she adds that my tongue is too big for my mouth. That's some mean shit to tell somebody who doesn't have anyone to give head to.

I'm just kidding, I don't do that type of stuff......anymore.

Last night after wrapping up a long night of studying anatomy and physiology (okay, it was more like twenty minutes of review), I started thinking about why I'm not even remotely close to being betrothed to someone. I'd really like to not only get married one day, but go on a really hot date with a great guy who finds me as equally great, if not greater before I get married. It's hard these days to find someone who can reciprocate the same feelings that you have for them. I look at my friends and even my own family and I wonder, "where did I go wrong?" Just about all of them are married or happily attached to someone. Why haven't I found someone who's a great person and just as great with my Peanut? The one guy that I did (do) want to have a relationship with, is more partial to his ex-girlfriend and her son and also my friend (who's not even remotely interested in him). I know in my heart that he would make a great husband and father, but he's not interested in me. He sees me as just a friend. I'm tired of being thrown into the "friend" bin. Guys are always complaining about being labeled as a friend, but hell I don't think I'll ever rise above that shit. It's a growing epidemic in my world. It's difficult for me to hear him talk about some other broad when I think to myself, "I should be that broad". *sigh*.

I don't get it. I'm not supermodel fine or even MARTA bus station skanky, I'm just me, good 'ol Diva with astigmatism and locs. Maybe it's my astigmatism that's fucking niggas up. They can't hang with a sister who's glasses are so strong, she see into his soul and see that he's bogus and packing like a boy Cabbage Patch Kid doll, (no offense to the "Tiny Time" club members).

I've tried giving my no-good baby's father chance after chance to prove himself worthy, but he hasn't risen to the occasion. My mama is constantly asking, have you heard from [insert name here]? She really wants me to marry this fool because I think she's afraid that I'll end up being by myself. I'm like this bastard owes me money mama, do you really think he's going to call me anytime soon? Despite my somewhat sour disposition towards him, at one point in my life I would've married him without another thought, because I loved him so much. It's amazing how blind one is to a loved one's constant deception. As much as I wanted to have my family, he's not worth the tears, sacrifice, or heartache that I've had to endure. It's time to move forward with my life and leave the bitterness behind that threatens the new life that's ahead of me.

I want some more bebes, but I also want someone to share my pregnancy with, unlike with Peanut. I mean, I had my family and my mama accompanied me on one of my doctor's visits, it's not the same as having your husband or significant other hold your hand as you both watch the ultrasound of the baby together or having someone rub your feet and your back and whispering how much you and the baby mean to him. Right now I could really use some male companionship.

There. I said it. Like Janet Jackson, sometimes I get lonely.

Yes, there are times when I long for a masculine voice on the other end of the phone. Yes there are times when I yearn for a kiss or maybe even a sensual touch from a man. Yes, there are times when even my vibrator can't compare to the real thing.

Oh, well.

The man's not here, so what can I do? Just keep longing and waiting, I guess.

Damn, I'm so impatient.

On The First Day of Classes, My True Love Gave To Me............

I'm in a wishy washy mood, so please pardon me. My classes start today and I'm pretty nervous. There's always something unsettling about being an old broad in class with a bunch of young ass kids. I hope by my switching to night classes that a lot of the people I'll be in class with are older adult career changers like myself. Well, I'm not that old, hell, I'll be 27 in November (gifts anyone?), but it's just the thought of being in classes with niggas that were born after 1986 that's pretty scary.

I keep asking myself if I'm making the biggest mistake of my life by pursuing a career that's really getting a bum rap these days. I mean let's face it, any healthcare professional will tell you that the healthcare field sucks royally. However, like that mythical moth, I keep drawing closer to the flame. I don't know how to explain it. Ever since I was little, I've liked reading health encyclopedias. I like knowing the names of diseases, what causes them and how they can be treated. The only reason why I didn't change my major to nursing while I was in school the first time was because I was on a business scholarship and of course it wouldn't look to good to your benefactors to switch to a major that wasn't even close to the scope of business education. I remember envying my friends who were nursing and pre med majors. I wanted to experience the same challenges they were facing. Shit, reading about business ethics didn't give me a buzz, my biology class did. As a matter of fact, I was the best student in the class edging out the pre nursing majors.

Although, I can't seem to get the grasp of chemistry to save my life, I love it. It makes me think. I dream about this shit at night. I memorized the alkali earth metals and the noble gases. I'm in love with finding out how many moles of a base are needed to titrate an acid (and I'm really good at it too!) I just can't pass the test with a stellar score which is why I'm repeating the class again in the spring.

I just hope I get to the level I'm supposed to be at. Whether it's nursing, physician assistant, or eventually a doctor, I love the fact that the possibilities are endless despite the obstacles that I'm facing, I'm charging full steam ahead. Hopefully in 2006, I'll be either entering nursing school, a physician assistant program or taking the damn MCAT's (even though I've already decided not to apply to medical school until Peanut is at least in the third grade). I've come to realize that wherever I wind up is where I'm supposed to be.

Sorry, for the boring post, I know the rest of y'all could really give a damn, but I don't really give a damn that you don't give a damn. It's my blog and I write what I want to write. If you don't want to read it, then go read something else....

Okay, I'm just kidding, please stay and read my blog. Nobody else is reading it. *Sobbing uncontrollably*

The end.........

We're Not The Champions

I've been thinking about the different jobs I've held over the years and realized that every job I've ever held, has been with a loser company. When I say "loser company" I mean a company that has consistently ranked in thetop twenty, but never number one or even anywhere close to it. When I worked at Earthlink as a Consumer Sales Consultant, we were way behind AOL and MSN. Let's face it, we sucked like Monica Lewinsky. It wasn't that AOL or MSN was better in terms of price, it was just that Earthlink used really fucked up equipment and overcharged their customer's for it. I felt bad telling these people they were going to be getting quality internet service when in fact they would be lucky if the damn server didn't die as soon as I told them that. Not to mention the several times when customers asked to speak to a supervisor and I told them that I was one, not because I was trying to be a smart ass, but because we were encouraged by the supervisors to own the call or as I like to call it; "leave them the hell alone because they didn't feel like doing their job".

Then there was my job as a Marketing Assistant/Bitch Do Anything at the corporate office of a fast food restaraunt that serves subs, we'll call them Wimpie (for the sake of all the Googlers out there). Hell, if people knew what I knew, you'd probably never want to eat another Wimpie sub again, especially their BLT with inferior cuts of bacon and Light Tuna sub made with a mayonnaise-like substance. Anyway nobody who worked there even eats Wimpie, they all eat Subway, Quiznos, and Schlotsky's. As a matter of fact, there was a Schlotsky's Deli down the street from the office that I used to frequent. Being the nigga that I am, I would have the balls to bring the shit upstairs to my desk and eat it in front of my boss. To make matters worse, when Wimpie got all entagled in litigation from switching from Coke to Pepsi products , I would bring Coke cans and bottles up to my desk and drink it right in front of my boss's face. I didn't give a damn that they didn't like Coke anymore, I still did. I was born and raised in Atlanta, I'm not drinking no damn Pepsi. I don't like to assume, but I think it might have been my cavalier attitude towards Wimpie's upper management that ultimately led to my dismissal. By that time I didn't give a damn. Ask anybody who saw me being escorted out of the building by personnel, I had a "I don't give a fuck" look on my face. But let the facts be known, I wasn't fired, I was laid off and received a shitty lump sum of severance pay and unemployment benefits.

Now there's my current job as a Project Coordinator at we'll call it "Japanese Freight Forwarders Who Don't Advertise Their Services and Gets Mad Because Nobody Wants Use Them To Ship Their Stuff Company". Even if I did provide the actual name of the company, you probably still wouldn't have hear of them. Why? Because Japanese companies don't like to really market their shit. Our largest competitor is anybody who puts up a damn billboard or hell even passes out flyers that say "We'll Ship Yo Shit Around The World". They don't have a formal marketing department. It's just me and my immediate supervisor and the other project coordinator that make up the marketing department. Get this shit, we don't even do any marketing. We do proposals and pray that somebody looks at that shit and says "hey, let's give them some business." More often than not, we don't get the business, but it looks good to the big wigs to see that we did use that account we have with FedEx to send our shit off to potential customers. That actually got me to thinking, how do FedEx ship off their packages? Anyway, I digress. The point of the matter is, UPS, DHL, and FedEx are whooping our asses because we're too cheap to spend a little money on some advertising and too inexperienced to develop a sound marketing plan that will catapult this company into the same league as those shipping companies I just listed. It doesn't really matter to me anyway because I am 16 credits away from applying to Nursing school (I'm delaying medical school for a couple of years, but I'm still going to finish up my pre requisite med school courses next year) and I'll be leaving.

Damn, I at least hope when I get my first nursing job that it will be at a good hospital, you know a hospital that doesn't kill more patients than it actually treats.

Until the next time..........

I'm Rick James Bitch!

The original Superfreak has passed at the age of 56.

Rest in Peace.

Damn, Damn, James!

Man, have you ever been so mad that it makes you tired? I tell you, shit just ain't been going my ways for some months now and today was no exception

Whiteboy done stopped working.

For the one person who reads my journal, they know that Whiteboy is my white Chevy Cavalier with the NASCAR paraphanalia shit on it. For all you other niggas, now you know. Anyway, yesterday my car appeared to be running hot, but it wasn't smoking or nothing like that, but I knew something wasn't right. Being that I've had my share of shaggedy cars, I would know when my ride is running a fever. I told my dad that the Check Gages light kept coming on and and the temperature gauge hand kept dangling perilously close to the "Nigga Yo Shit Is Blazin" side. He told me that he would take a look at it, but it stopped by the time I got to the house. This morning, the car cranked up with no problem. I dropped my baby off with no problem. I drove my car to my house for lunch with no problem. After eating a healthy bowl of Kroger brand imitation Crunch Berries, I went downstairs to crank up 'ol Whiteboy.....

Now we got a problem.

That shit would not crank for nothing. I don't know if the battery is gone or what. All I know is that this is the last damn thing I need to be happening to me right now. OOOOOOOH I hate damn cars. I wish all of them shits would run off into a ditch. Why can't Atlanta be laid out like NY and shit? Why does everything in Atlanta have to be 1234567 miles away from each other? Why doesn't the C-Tran run to my damn job instead of stopping 5 fucking miles short of the shit? I went upstairs and called my sister (I always call her when I'm mad). I was mad as hell. I was so mad that I was shaking and crying on the phone, asking my sister "why me?" over and over again. Man, I just wanted jump off my patio and just end it all (well, not really, I just wanted a really good excuse to give my boss for not being able to make it back to work). Luckily, my brother was home and was able to give me a ride back to work. I don't know how in the hell I'm getting home, but I know that she can't dock my pay because I came back to work.

Man, this shit sucks like Monica Lewinsky, but I'm determined not to let the Devil win this shit. He's pissing me off, blowing my dreams of making it big. I need the Devil to go bother somebody else and leave my black ass alone. Ain't it time for the Devil to go on vacation or some shit like that?

I apologize for my excessive use of the word "shit", but given the gravity of the situation, I feel it's appropriate.

I need a hug right now, but my baby isn't here to give me one. She gives such good hugs. I really am hungry, I'm daydreaming about some Arby's.

Y'all niggas email me some food and some money to fix my car.