Last Night

I went out Saturday night for Geoffrey the Giraffe’s birthday. I didn’t get home till 1:30pm on Sunday. I was supposed to go to a photo shoot with Hope. I was the make-up and stylist. Aren’t I such I good friend? I called Hope on my ride home, told her that I was on my way home and was going to take a shower. She told me that she cancelled her shoot and couldn’t believe I was awake and pondered on how I even got up. She got in at 7:30 in the morning and there was no way she could be photographed. So me and Mia went to my bedroom and went to bed after a little chatting of how our night went. We laughed and then Mia was snoring away.

Mia left around 2 or 3 pm don’t remember, my contacts were out. I couldn’t see the clock. I think I finally fell asleep around 4pm. I didn’t get out of bed till 8pm and only got up to watch the Oscars. Got a call from Geoffrey the Giraffe in the middle of the Oscars. I took my cordless and headed straight for my bed.

“You are not allowed out with us ever again.”

I laughed it off and answered, “What? What did you just say? I’m not allowed out with you ever again?”

“Yes, you are not allowed out with us ever again, unless you bring that cute girl with you.”

“Cute girl? Which one?”

“Mia, that cute girl.”

“Oh yeah, she’s is nice isn’t she?”

We bullshitted for a bit and talked about how I kept kissing him on his lips HAPPY BIRTHDAY when he was talking to Mia, it didn’t even faze him, he really wanted Mia to kiss him. Don’t get me wrong, it was a friend tap or two or three. I thought it was fun.

So we left it off that I had to talk to Mia to let her know that he had a crush on her. I had told him that she has a boyfriend and though they are having problems I doubt she would go for it.

He told me to try anyway.

I walked my way back to my living room, where my roommate was with his cousin and his two other friends, which one of them is my friend also. My roommate’s Romanian friend Addie was upset. Myles, who is my roommates cousin was last to come to the house and he picked Addie up a chicken calzone like he asked Myles to get him.

Addie was bitchen that there was no sauce in the calzone. He gets aggravated very quickly and starts cursing out like if someone just killed his damn dog. He goes into the kitchen returning with more aggravated curses.

With his heavy ass accent he’s bitchen, “Dis is all cheese, no fucken chickin.”

We all wanted to laugh but saw how upset he was. They tried calling the place back up, only because I told them to.

“Call the place up and tell them they made a mistake, they should deliver you the right order.”

Myles didn’t agree that they were going to deliver it.

“Just call them. Do you have their number?”

Myles didn’t have the number, “Call information up.”

Addie said there was no way he was going to call because he had to pay for calling up fourrrr one one. Myles supposedly doesn’t get charged so he called info on his cell.

The retarded operator didn’t know jack shit but gave him some number. He called and it ended up being a different pizzeria that had the same name, that pizzeria gave him another number to call. Long story short, they gave him the run around. Both numbers where wrong. Addie fed up called the one number and asked them for the correct number.

“Ello, I need ther number to the phone for the pizzeria on….”

And rambling he went with his heavy accent.

“…. Mother Fucker!”

I understood that they couldn’t understand him so before he told their mother that she was a fucker, I told him to give me the phone. Once I had his phone to my ear, they hung up on me.

He was about to flip out.

“When I leave, I go to da place.”

“You can’t go three hours after you got your food to let them know it’s not the right order, you have to go when you get your food.”

Addie put on his shoes and thank goodness put on his coat because he was about to kill everyone with the smell of his armpits. I swear when he comes over I think I’m in a gas chamber.

I told him not to curse them out and to be nice to the people, it was just a mistake. Well he went and called and had Myles talk to the guy behind the counter. I heard the entire argument 10 feet away. Addie told Myles that he threw the calzone at the guy. I told my roommate that if he comes back here, I don’t want to hear him yelling, I’m going to bed.
The man behind the counter was calling the cops so Myles had told Addie to get the fuck out of the place.

It wasn’t even my fucking calzone and I got all stressed out. I hate that shit, when other people get you stressed out from their problems. This calzone thing really wasn’t a problem and he made it to be this horrific drama. Word of advice; don’t let a smelly armpit immigrant bitch about his order in your house. Either the smell or the aggravation will kill you.

The Escolator

I really don’t think Anger Management is an issue with this situation. Well, I don’t think I need it, but I think it is only human to get angry at this particular situation.

Here is the situation.

This Bitch right? OK OK I will not start it that way.

Friday morning, I walked out of my house and I felt some sort of peace. It was a bright day. The sun was reflecting off the white ground. Normally I’m annoyed to walk through the snow so early in the morning, only because it slows down my pace and I can’t help to think I’m going to slip and break some sort of bone in my body, but that morning, everything just seemed so quiet, even the passing traffic. I felt at ease and took in some deep breathes only to make my chest hurt like a bitch and cough up my left lung, but that’s only because my asthma sucks big freaking hoohoo’s. I enjoyed every minute of it and actually didn’t care if I was going to be late for work. I was taking in the peace.

I get on the train, transfer and get on another train to get out on my stop. I walk up the stairs through the building and then, here we go, the escalators. I was wearing my big look at my feet I’m a big clown rain boots. I must have taken 3 steps where I tripped. I slightly touched this woman’s luggage, it was one of those small ones and it had wheels and a long handle. My elbow slightly touched the handle. She made the nastiest sound come out of her (I should have punched the shit out of) mouth. Tss!!! That shit was loud, and as I was falling about to destroy my face, I was saying sorry on my way down. Once I got my balance and saved myself from injuring my face (this is only because I put my hand out and pushed myself up real quick on the step ahead of me), I realized that this fucking piece of shit of a human pissed me the fuck off. I turned around and looked at her. She was giving me a real ugly fucked up look. So, me being me, I told her off.

I turned and put my hand out to her with my palm facing up and said loudly with a lot of anger (OK fine I yelled at the woman),

“I almost fell, no need for a nasty attitude.”

I was contemplating if I should wait for her at the top and trip her and kick her real hard. But of course I was running a few minutes late for work, so I hesitated the thought and then just let it pass me as I swung open every door really hard almost knocking who ever was in the way.

LUNCH

I just went to the bathroom, and as I smoothed out my eyebrow with my wet finger tip (I had just washed my hands), I noticed I had way too much foundation on my forehead. I guess the accomplishment of covering up the meeting on my forehead was captured; I had a vision flash in my head of me in a coffin. It reminded me of the way the mortician makes a dead person look. They always put way too much foundation and make up on the person, that they sort of look fake.

I have all this gunk in my hair now, trying to moisturize the scalp and the hair. Sounds exciting huh? Well, I decided that I’m going to wash it tomorrow and blow it out. I’ll inform you if I still have any hair left or just left with four strands of hair.

Ok it’s been a few hours since I went to the bathroom and noticed the creepy face in a coffin. I ordered Japanese food and it finally came. I went to the reception and noticed the bill was higher than it should be. I called up the place and was put on hold 3 times till this woman picked up,

“You placed order for delivery?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Oh, OK, what is your address?”

“I already place the order, I’m calling because…” I was cut off rudely with,

“Oh OK” and she put me on hold. No please hold, just put me on hold in my mid sentence.

BITCH I thought to myself. I fucking hate that shit. Don’t fuck with me, especially with food and when I’m hungry. I took the hand set and threw it on my desk to pick it up to just bang it on my desk. The first chick who answered picks up again.

“Hello, ok would you like to place order?”

I replied with a nasty “HELLO!, No! I’m calling about my order. I want to know why I’m being charged more.”

“Oh, it is 9.50 each.”

“9.50 each? My menu says 7.75.”

“No, it’s 9.50, the menu is inside bag.”

“I’m not looking inside the bag; I’m looking at my menu.”

“You have old menu, from 4 years ago.”

“Well, how was I supposed to know that? This is the menu I have here.”

“What does your menu look like?”

“I don’t know it’s a menu, it’s purple.”

“Oh , no you have old menu 4 years ago.”

I told her that’s not my fault. I was so frustrated.

“You know what? I’m about to tell your guy to take this back. My menu says 7.75 and now you’re telling me it’s 9.50. If I knew it was going to be that much I would have never ordered it.”

Umay and I had ordered together and she told me to just keep it.

“You send back?”

“You know what?” I was about to tell her YES! Then I just told her “Forget it! She wants to keep it. I’m never ordering from you again! Bye!”

“Oh, OK. Bye.”

I hung up. Collected money from my wallet and from Umay. Gave the dude the money as he stood there dumbfounded.

“You give me 22?”

I was already almost through my door, “Yes 22. They charged me more than I thought because I had an old menu.”

“It’s 20…”

I interrupted “I know 20.68.”

I know it’s not the delivery boys fault, but he had the fucking audacity to ask me for more money for his tip!! FREE DELIVERY mother fucker READ YOUR MENU OLD,NEW AND ANCIENT AND NEW RELEASE!!! That’s what I really wanted to say. I was already fucking pissed at this place, the dude is lucky he even got anything. I ended up paying 3 bucks more than I had to. I’m a broke ass bitch. So he better not turn around looking for a better tip after his damn restaurant was so rude putting me on hold while I’m still talking to them on top of putting me on hold 3 times before that. That place doesn’t have it together. So FUCK YOU DELIVERY BOY!!

I told Umay what happened and I said, he was implying that I should give more money for a tip.

I told Umay “He shouldn’t get a woman with pointy shoes pissed off, because I was going stick the tip of my shoe hard right up his ass! There’s your tip!

Don’t I have the right to get upset?? Fuck’m Fuck’m all!!

Ever A Time...

Is there ever a time you just don’t feel good about yourself? I’m not asking this because of my freaking hair dilemma, I’m only asking because lately I’ve just been feeling that way, and actually have been feeling it for a while. That is why I thought to do something with my hair, thinking it will make me feel a bit better and it backfired.

I tried to do exercises to plump up my “where the hell are you ass?”, and a bit of a work out for my abs. I know if I kept up with it, my body would have the right cuts I’m looking for. Thing is when I get home from where ever, I’m too tired and mentally exhausted to do anything. The only thing that keeps me sane is singing and then again I get all upset that I have gotten nowhere with it.

So no matter what I’ve been trying, I still don’t feel pretty nor just accomplished. I will see what tomorrow brings.

There’s one thing that made me very happy though. My friend Isa got flowers today from a guy she’s been seeing, and it’s been long awaited that she finally got flowers from any man, because no one deserves them more than she does.

My Loss

Do you know what it feels like to be in pain when you breathe? Last night after I left the salon with half my hair in their sink, I came home and started to clean my bathroom. I took a deep breath in and I thought I had breathed in toxic air. I felt the back of my mouth to my esophagus to my lungs about to explode. I felt my lungs tighten up as two huge hands just went inside my body and squeezed them as hard as possible. I was trying to keep my mind off the nervous breakdown with in.

I turned my key to open my living room door.

“I am so upset, I’m about to have a fucking attack.”

My roommate and his friend were sitting down watching television, as my roommate inquires about my outburst.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m about to go crazy, I lost a lot of my hair. Why didn’t they just bleach it from the beginning? Why did they tell her to do it the other way?”

He just sat there with his friend. I took my coat off and put it in the closet. My dishes from last night were washed by my roommate but then there were new dishes he just used in the sink. I washed those dishes and put in a conditioner in my hair and kept it in for 10 minutes, I rinsed and then beated two eggs and three table spoons of mayo. This yellowish crap was going in my hair for a deep conditioning. I was hoping it worked. So I kept this shit on my hair for an hour as I cleaned the bathroom. It was seeping out of my shower cap and dripping down my face and of course it got in my eye. I had blurred vision for a bout a minute or so. How pissed was I? I was about to throw the three cans of sauce through a window. I wanted to throw everything through a window. I wanted to break things I wanted to cry and cry hard. Not only was the loss of my hair hurting me, it was the three pimples almost one top of one another on my forehead contributing. My friend Pete said that they were having a meeting. It was funny at the moment, but when I went home petrified it wasn’t funny anymore.

I actually used a brillo pad to clean my bath tub as I showered. My tub is older than my mother your mother and your next door neighbor’s dog walker’s mother all put together. I was dreading to rinse the potato salad minus the potato out of my hair. When I finished washing the tub I started to wash myself. I rinsed the crap out of my hair and the tub kept getting clogged. With my foot I removed what ever was in the way of the drain. It was my hair. Must I continue on the attack I was about to have? So much hair. I really don’t have much to begin with. I finally had my hair long, then I got it colored and it needed a cut so there goes my length and then they had to correct my color to this conclusive drama of me in my shower trying to keep a grip of not having a nervous breakdown.

I didn’t have dinner; ok I had a small pickle. I sat on my bed and blew my hair. It felt nasty. I was afraid to touch it, thinking it was going to all fall out. I was told that I shouldn’t do anything else with my hair for a month.

“Try to wash it maybe once a week. Don’t blow it out.”

Ahhh, ok so I really don’t wash my hair often, because there’s nothing in it. Unless it’s frizzy and all in nasty knots. The only way my hair looks decent is if I blow it out and of course I can not do that now. I put my hair, what ever was left of it, into a pony bun tail. I laid in bed and cried. I rarely cry. Well, I cry a lot in the inside, but rarely do I let it come out. Why are people ashamed to cry? Why was I trying to keep quiet so my roommate wouldn’t hear me? It was because I really was trying not to cry, but at the same time I wanted to scream and cry my fucking brains out. I tried not to move, thinking I was going to find the remains of my hair on my pillow in the morning. I cried silently and cried in the hidden dark. I touched the back of my head and felt what I lacked. I was scared and didn’t know what to do. I kept asking my angel (my brother) to help give me courage and to help my hair stay on my head. Then I was thinking should I just cut my hair real short? NO! I’ve been waiting so long for my hair to grow. Slowly I will get over this and I thought to myself, maybe if I try not to stress about it, I will have a better chance of less hair falling out. I had lost hair once before from stress, and I don’t need that to happen on top of my coloring losing hair mishap drama.

I finally got out of bed and realized I had to move my freaking car to the alternate side. I was pissed. I didn’t even bother to look on my pillow. I didn’t want to get more upset. I got ready and left. I left with my lung hacking up its last breath, well that’s what it felt like, and trying to keep my head up high. I can’t stop coughing and I can’t seem to get the loss of my hair out of my mind.

I Didn't Go With Mia

Mia wanted to go out last night. I didn't. I was way too tired. Itwas only supposed to be for an hour, but you know how that goes. It'snever an hour. I gave her my house keys so she can sleep over insteadof trotting her way an hour away all the way home.I was on my couch watching Without a Trace with my eyes closed for 15minutes. Then the sound of my telephone ringing had me open my eyes.She came over with one of her other friends. Mia parked her car by myhouse so she wouldn't have to worry about finding parking at 2am whichended up being like 3:43am. Her friend Patricia was coming to pickthem up."Are you sure you don't want to come?""Yeah, I'm really tired, look at me I look like shit."So we sat there watching Without A Trace.Mia's friend Alana sat next to me, she smelled like a smoker. It wason her clothes and coat, unless someone in her house is a smokingchimney. My roommate had the living room window a bit open to let insome fresh air as I buried myself under a comforter that I took out of theliving room closet."I just farted."Alana elbows me and says "It's really nice to meet you."We all laughed.Mia got the call that her friend Patricia was outside and Mia andAlana left. I didn't even finish watching Without A trace or maybe Iwas just to tired to remember the ending. My roommate told me thathis cousin was coming over to look at his computer after midnight andwas wondering if he wanted me to have his cousin to take a look at myprinter."Yeah, the CD is in the closet, he knows where it is I showed him thelast time he was here."It was 12:39 when my roommate walked into my room and asked if hiscousin can look at my printer and I said sure.I heard them talking and then I don't know how much longer it was buthe couldn't find the CD to install my printer. I guess that was theproblem. I have to look for that damn CD. I told him I was fine withthat and it's ok not to worry. They carried on with theirconversation as I drifted away.The door bell rang 3 times one after the other, I looked at my clockand it was 3:43am. I woke up as if I was wide awake and walked overto my living room to open the door to find Mia.

She looked at me with sad eyes with a pout like a lost little girl.

“Mia”

“I’ve been outside for 20 minutes. I couldn’t get in.” I thought she was about to cry.

“Aww Mia, come in.”

“I couldn’t find the right key.”

“It’s ok.”

Mia took her coat off and went straight to the bathroom. I went back to my room to get her a pajama and laid back in bed waiting for her to come out of the bathroom. She was in there pretty long. I had a feeling she was throwing up. She was definitely drunk. Not only did the “I couldn’t find the right key” give me that indication, but her innocent little girl manner did too. I heard the bathroom door open slightly. I swear I have supersonic hearing at night. I waited thinking she should be here any second. A minute passes by and I didn’t hear any footsteps. I got out of bed and walked into the kitchen where the bathroom is and found Mia laying on the floor. I ran over to her scared.

“Mia! Are you ok?”

When I finally reached her I noticed she was laying on her side in a sleeping position as she used her arms as pillows and was in some what a fetal position. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Mia, you have to get up.”

“Huh?”
I put my hand out to her and helped her up.

“I have pajamas for you.”

Like a whining little girl she said “Ahhh noooo I have pajamas.”

“You do? OK.”

So we both walked to my room and she plopped right into my bed.

“Mia, you have to move over.”

“Uhahh uhahh”

She kept making those noises from the moment she walked into my apartment till she actually fell asleep. A noise that made it seemed as if she was whining in a annoyed way because she didn’t get to go on the pony ride.

So we’re laying there, it’s probably about 4:20am now and Mia keeps squirming around. I wanted to bust out laughing, but I was too tired. I knew she was drunk and that is why she was so uncomfortable. By now, I’m just laying there listening to her move all over. I felt her move further and further from me and heard her land on my laundry bags (my cleans socks and underwear and towels) and slowly slide off them to the floor. I laughed to myself.

“Mia?”

“Shh”

I laughed, she was telling me to shoosh. She had no idea where she was.

I turned the switch and saw her there laying on the floor trying to hold her self up with one arm and squinting at me as if I put on the brightest light in the world.

“Mia?”

“Shh”

I couldn’t help but laugh. I helped her up and asked if she had to go to the bathroom and throw up. She was making funny noises in the dark when she fell. So I had figured it was because she had that nauseating drunk feeling. I walked her to the bathroom put the toilet seat up and held the door open.

“No no you go back to sleep, I’m fine.”

Yeah right, she couldn’t stand straight, but how can you argue with a drunk. So I closed the door and as I did she dropped my toilet paper holder that holds the spare toilet paper and made a loud noise. All I kept thinking was that my roommate was going to kill me. I stood by the door till I heard her throw up and waited another minute to end up walking to my room. She was taking a long time and I didn’t hear the door open. I got out of bed and noticed the bathroom door slightly opened with the light off. I thought maybe she came out and went to lay on the futon in the living room. I walked over to the living room turn the switch and saw no one there. My cat was by the bathroom door starring. I went over and opened the door and found Mia sleeping on the bathroom floor. I laughed again. I did a lot of laughing.

“Mia, get up off the floor.”

“I’m on the floor?”

Giggling I gave her my hand and helped her up. “Come on let’s go to bed.”

She wobbles to my room as I guided her and plops right into my bed.

“Mia, you have to move over.”

She moved over about half a foot with her hands behind her head as her elbow gave my right eye company. I didn’t bother telling her to move more, the poor girl was dysfunctional. I laid there half asleep hoping she won’t elbow the crap out of my eye. Then the most horrifying thing happened. She started snoring. That was the end of my sleep, but I giggled through out the night.

I got out of bed 10 to 7am and got into the shower. Woke her and told her to get ready. Her boyfriend Jack(Wod) called her and started interrogating her.

“Where are you?”

“I’m by Chafai’s, I told you that.”

They argued the entire time and he broke up with her.

“I don’t remember who brought me home, it was one of your friends I can’t remember his name.”

She handed me the phone and I answered…

“Hello Jack(Wod) what’s up?, we’re running late.”

“Oh, OK it’s true.”

He didn’t believe she was sleeping over. She didn’t give two shits, she was done with him, saying how immature he was and I kept telling her that he will never change and doesn’t trust you.
We get on the train and Mia is still drunk. She goes to work and emails me that she’s still drunk. Tonight, she will go out and do it all over again.

First LOVE Taught Me How To Define Love

Every morning on the train, I hope to find a seat. Once I sit, I take out my black paged book. I write and I write. Lyrics come to mind and I jot them down. People look at me as I count the syllables on my fingers wondering what the heck I’m counting. Today I started to write a song about falling.

I try to write universal, and my friend never believes me when I tell him that certain songs are things that I have never experienced or that has never happened. I’m surrounded by so many people and see things deeply and feel what people feel. As if I’m in their mind and body. I take that gift and write what they are going through. But this one time, today, I wrote about myself. Emotions of falling in love with someone I didn’t expect to feel for and then the hard part of not being with them. Though how heart broken I am, I wrote and still am writing about, how I finally breathed in a bit of falling in love and how I understand now what that feeling should feel like. I always say, there’s always a meaning why you’ve met someone, and it’s either to learn from them or teach them. In this incident it was for me to learn. I learned that there is such a thing to go deaf in a loud room. I learned that a kiss is everything, though I already knew that, this time I actually felt it. I learned that not everything that is in front of you is evidently yours to keep, no matter how hard you hold on to it. It escapes. I have learned that if it is meant for me to be with someone I will once again feel what I had felt from and of him. Of course he will forever be embedded in my mind, but I strongly believe that you will never forget your first love.

Babies

Babies. I keep dreaming about babies. If it's not babies, it someone being pregnant. Is it my biological clock ticking? I'm absolutely not ready for a child, financially, and, my dream has not been pursued yet. I need to get where I want to be in life first, before I bring another life to this confused world we live in. I've always wondered what my child would look like, but I can't even imagine it with out knowing who the father would be. I've always wanted a man who was tall and who is artistically inclined with music, and drawing and photography and well let's just put it this way I want the father of my child to be like ME but a man of course. My child is going to inherit all the genes, good and bad from us both, so the only bad gene he should have is a big ass, because I sure can't find an ass on this body. The father has to have a great sense of humor and be very intellectual. The father has to be deep and believe in himself and have high realistic goals. I want the father to be able to be a poet with a soft heart, and strong in mind. I want him to be creative in all things. I want him to be honest and not have it in him to lie. I want him to be a loving person. Crapper, this description sounds more and more like me. Like I said before I would love the father of my child to be just like me. Ok, so I would also want my child to take after me in these areas: Intuition, creativity, imaginative, a good listener and I want my child to be someone that everyone can trust and take advice from. I want my child to give from their heart at all times.

My parents. I’ve always dreamt that my child would take after my mother's blue eyes and blond hair and have the color of my father's dark olive skin. I want my child to inherit all the good things I've found in my parents which are creativity, loving, fun, open and have the biggest heart to everyone. My father knew three languages don’t know if he still does, and played many instruments. My father used his hands to build. Build us a home and shelter us with his love, but now after cutting his fingers off with a saw machine he's disabled but still works on his home. My father now at 71 sits at his piano in the living room and plays his old songs and sings along. My mother sings along and dances around him. My mother, besides her eyes and natural blond hair I would love my child to inherit her sweetness, her understanding her imagination and her deep love. Her talent to sew, and create beautiful things out of any material and have an eye for beauty. My mother as my father would give their last dime so you don't suffer. They welcome everyone to their home with open loving arms. I want my child and I will say children now, because I feel that coming from five, three brothers and one sister, a child should have many siblings and that means more love.

Men's Biological Clock

Men have biological clocks too. Oh it’s not the kind you think. Yes and the word THINK is the keyword. Men’s biological clock is for THINKING!! They don’t do any thinking till their biological clock tics, and the age differs with all men. At a certain old ripe age, they think to themselves…

“Holy shit, I think I want to commit.”

“She’s the one.”

“Hey guys, I think I’m going to stay in, I’m done with the club thing.”

“I want a kid.”

“I don’t think I should be sleeping around anymore.”

“I’m young at heart, but it’s time to be a man.”

“I should really start cleaning the house.”

“I should put the toilet seat down when I’m done.”

“I should put my dish in the sink when I’m done eating.”

“I should not leave my dirty clothes on the floor.”

“Enough about me, what about you?”

“I love you.”

“Excuse me, I’m lost. Would you mind telling me how to get to…”

There are so many more. So ladies if you are unsure of your man or your friend or brother just know their biological clock is either broke or not ticking yet.

What Does It Really Mean?

I don’t know why, but I’ve been having dreams for a while now that my mom has been cheating on my father. The first dream that I can remember was catching her at a place and finding out that she was cheating on my father with another woman. I cried and cried so much in my dream and was torn. I had cried as if someone just died. Then I had more but can’t remember the details. Last night, I had a dream that we were in our old house and my dad was in bed and I had asked him where my mom was, and he didn’t know. I walked into the laundry room which was in the garage and got a message that she went to the movies. I was furious. My mom at the movies? Why? For what? WITH WHO? I knew she was cheating on my father and I felt remorseful for my him. I approached my mom by the dryer and asked her, well really screaming “Who did you go to the movies with?”

She told me to shh and was about to tell me and we got interrupted. I knew right there and then it was with another man and I cried. Cried like if I was mourning once again. It felt so real that when I woke up I was still mad at my mother. My mom is 62, my dad 71, they live in Florida and that’s it. Never would either one cheat on each other. So why do I keep having these nightmares? What does it really mean? These mysterious dreams wake me up scarred, and the haunting part is, that it never happened.

I Will Be Found

My four year old niece is just amazing. The most intelligent child I’ve seen so far and it’s not because she’s my niece. There’s something exceptional about her. When she was just a few months old my sister had her in a high chair and put wooden Velcro fruits on the try on the high chair. My sister would separate them and mess them around so they would be scattered. My niece would put them together and put them to the correct other half making a whole fruit. It was amazing to watch. I had said

“She’s a prodigy child.”

So now at 4 she has and has been for years having full conversations. She makes up her own songs and cries to movies. She even has a boyfriend. They hold hands. How cute. I had called her on her birthday, February 1st, and sang Happy Birthday and told her how much I love her, she didn’t say anything. Before she got on the phone my sister was telling her that she can only go over the neighbors for 10 minutes. So when I was done singing and confessing all my love for her she stood quiet.

“Hello, Elizabeth? Did you hear me? I sang Happy Birthday and said I love you.”

“Yeah, I know… but I really have to go now, I only have 10 minutes to go play over by Tom’s.”

I almost fell. I laughed and told her I loved her again.

I can’t really remember if it was before her birthday or after, my youngest brother calls me and when I’m usually on the phone with him he sometimes sings one of my songs I wrote, well only half of the chorus. He sings it so often, my niece picked it up. He put her on the phone and they both sang to me. Now, these lyrics are sure not for a 4 year old to be singing. I almost cried. The greatest feeling about it is that she understands what they meant. From that day on, I tried to remember the song I wrote many years ago. I couldn’t remember for the life of me how it started or the rest of the lyrics. I had to call my brother back a few days later and we both were boggled. Then he said something that triggered just a little of the past. I went nuts to look for the lyrics. I finally found the original that I wrote years ago, the page was already turning yellow and felt so soft. I tried to sing it, but the melody wasn’t there because my brother had the wrong melody and that of course was stuck in my head, it only made it harder to remember what I did with the lyrics. So a week or so later, which ends up being last night, I went looking through my tapes that I had recorded myself singing. You know the one that you make up a melody or just try and sing it like ten different ways and don’t record over any of them? Those. So I put in tape #1 and it was my friend Mia. We decided to send each other audio tapes instead of writing letters to one another in High School. I almost pissed on myself. I called her and we both laughed and couldn’t wait to sit down together to listen to the whole thing. Then I went through so many other tapes and was amazed on how I sounded and the memories it brought back, as I sang along in harmony. Then I found it!! I was so happy and kept rewinding it to my favorite part that I like to harmonize. It was the greatest feeling and while doing all that, I realized, I’m not such a bad song writer, lyricist, and of course an amazing singer. Not to sound conceited, but I impressed myself and that gives you such a rush. I was actually proud of myself and at the same time upset that I have gone nowhere with my music when to me, it’s better than all that crap on the radio. One day I will be found.

DAMAGED

I love to people watch. The one thing I always come to find is that everyone is damaged. Their soul is damaged. It shows on their surface. It’s either they’ve had a hard day and try to close their eyes to get a few mins. of what they call a nap, but they still don’t look at ease. Then there are those people who just look like misery took over them, their saddened face trying to hide the tears that want to soak them completely. Then there are those people who think that they’re the only one person in the world with problems and just want to give you shit because they’re in a bad mood they can’t ever get out of. Of course I will not forget the people who are just plain old crazy. Not one truly happy soul has walked across my path nor walked along in my path. Am I supposed to feel bad for these people? NO! But I do. I always wanted to just ask them, why do you live your life the way you do? Who is waiting for you at home? No one? A friend? Family? The love of your life or someone you can’t stand? And then there are those people who just stare. Stare right at me as if I can’t see them doing it. I wonder how they see me. Sad, mad, insane, tired or just different. Does anyone ever look at me and have empathy and feel bad for this damaged soul? Some may and some just don’t give a fuck. It’s me who has empathy for everyone around me. I always wanted to have powers to fix all the damaged souls, but I am only human.

No Pill Going To Cure My Ill

So, I’ve been trying to fight off this stupid what ever it is, I’m thinking it’s a freaking upper respiratory and sinus infection, and it’s NOT WORKING. I’m getting worse by the minute. I had gone to see a Holistic Doctor. $143 later walking out of the place, I was told that I have a legion on my upper lung and my stomach is shot. She said I have a lot of nerves, stress. What the heck am I really stressing about? I’ll tell ya, it’s me getting sick and me getting sick is making me sicker. Make any sense? Ok roofnucker, read it again. Any hoots. My lungs, according to the Holistic Doctors words, looks like smoker lungs. I do not smoke, so you can see how bad it is. She said it’s not good. I’m taking these meds and all it’s making me do is shit more than I already do. That my dear is not a problem. Tomorrow I have an appointment with my regular MD. I’ll let you know what he says.

I’m going to walk in and tell him, “Upper respiratory and sinus infection.”

Then after my full physical, because I’m due for one, he’ll say, “Ehh… once again… you have an upper respiratory and sinus infection.”

I’m going to ask him if I can get some MRI or something better than an X-ray done on my lungs, because I am tired of getting this shit more than twice a winter. Two winters ago I had 5 upper respiratory infections and he thought with that funny look on his face, that it was not a very good thing. Duhh OF COURSE IT ISN’T! Last winter I don’t even remember how many I had, but one of them turned into a bad case of bronchitis and on top of that the flu. Thought I was being called by death. It sucks big hairy balls.

Suffocating

I found anger. I found it living deep inside me. Anger built from no one understanding and not listening to me. I just want to cry because that is what it feels like inside me. An ocean of cries and me being drowned in it. What is it that is so different about me that no one can get? Why do I have to repeat and not finish my sentences? Why am I loved so much? Why do I have answers for everyone else and nothing for myself? I’ve been fooled. I’ve been fooled by my own self. I thought I was strong. On the contrary I’m not and far from it. I have to stop! I just smudged the word strong. Today, I’ve had an even now I’m enduring pain in my ovaries. Why am I cramping? I shouldn’t. I don’t have my period and haven’t for over 3 years. Is it the birth control pills I swallow every single living morning fucking with me? Is it that? Making me feel the way I do? Is that what has been prescribed to me to blind me from my strength? A man across from me watches me as I write in my black paged book. Why? Can he see? See what’s really going on in me? Can anyone see it? I live each day as it comes to me. I’m going on with my life.

Is it really the death of my brother of ten years that is ruling my life? Is it true that I did not grieve properly? I thought I did. Why is it so wrong for it to still hurt? Why does pain make time stand still? Am I really an undiagnosed Posttraumatic Stress victim? I don’t know. Is that what it is? How do I throw away all the negativity that has been glued on me? Why must evil hover over me? All I’m surrounded by are the dead. I was told death walks with me. What is grieving, really? Yes, everyone has their own way, but what is it really? The curse of no love and no money. The life I’ve lived and will live till I… till I what? I don’t know. Where’s the happiness? I know it’s in here somewhere. I can feel it, but this anger, emptiness, pain and loneliness has conquered over it. I need to dig it out, buried under all that. Do I honestly need to see a therapist who will tell me the same thing I would tell myself? I’ve had much practice at it. Being the therapist. Is that what my career is supposed to be? What happened to my music? Its swims in my veins. It’s taking to long to happen. Will it ever? It brings me down.

How to get butterflies to flee inside me for a man that I can never be with! He’s gone on. I’m slowly. There are days when I’ve let go completely, but then some stupid memory flashes in my mind and my heart starts to flutter. How do you erase someone? But that’s just another thing put on my over filled plate. It’s wobbling and I have to control it. I was thinking, that maybe I just need to go away somewhere alone. Go somewhere where everyone is a stranger to me. Faces I’ve never seen ever. You know, find the woman, the little girl that I lost long ago. I can try and find them among the other lost strangers.

I’m standing here now on the train engulfed into the corner. I feel hidden amongst this over crowded train with people who are going to work. What is wrong with me? Is there something wrong with me? I don’t know, I thought this is what normal was, nothing wrong with being normal, right? I put on my new contacts this morning. I can see clear now. I’m hoping it’s time now, for me to see things clearer, distinguishing all these faults that make me me. Dissecting them and get rid of all the crap that doesn’t belong and sew it back up and make the brand new me. The me that’s meant to be here. I’m exhausted from being tired. It’s weakened my soul.

My childhood isn’t so much of a memory. I don’t remember the hanger that went through my pinkie. I don’t remember going to Europe at 4 years old. I don’t remember falling on a suit case buckle and being rushed to the hospital. The doctor told my mother that I was very close in damaging my uterus. It went inside me. Shouldn’t I remember something like that? A child bleeding in pain from her private part. I don’t. I don’t remember always cracking jokes and swirling around singing. When I saw the video I couldn’t believe it was me.

I had said “Wow, I guess I never changed.”

I don’t remember any birthday cakes as a child. I found out that I used to take my shirt off and do karate chops and that I always did it. The photograph was evidence. I don’t remember a lot of things, but I do remember those things because my mom told me when I was an adult all about it. I hardly remember elementary school, lucky enough to remember JR HIGH, but I do remember hitting a home run. The ball went over the fence. I remember almost breaking my knee in gym class in JR HIGH. I was on first (Kickball), I went to steal second and when the girl kicked the ball, it found its way to my feet and I did a somersault. I landed on my left knee. I remember hearing a big loud bang and my gym teacher coming over to me telling everyone to step away.

“Are you ok?”

I thought I was fine until I had to get up. She put me in her office and put ice on it. I remember that.

And here I am, suffocating under a pillow of questions. My life is the way it is, not only because of how my brothers death affected me nor is it the sleepless nights, nor the feeling buried in me for the man who’s not for me. It’s not only all the love that everyone gives me. It’s not only me not being fully satisfied at my job nor my music not being heard the way I want it to be, to be that singer hidden away in the closet. It’s all in one.

All By MYSELF

I went out Saturday night with my friends and had an awesome time. Got lost getting there and got lost getting home. I wasn't driving, but even if I was and didn't have any directions I would have gotten us all lost too. We finally got back into the neighborhood at 6am and decided to go for breakfast. When I slipped into my bed the clock showed it was 6:40am. By the time I fell asleep it was already day light, actually it was already getting light when I walked into my apartment from what I saw looking through the blinds of my door in the kitchen to the back yard. Today, I get an e-mail from my friend Sandrah.

S: So, how was Saturday night?

C: It was good. Small and they can smoke there, so I couldn't dance for to long, my asthma kicked in and now I'm suffering even more.

S: Nice. meet anyone?

C: Actually yes I did, but I had no interest. LOL. I met the drummer. He performed with Timmy and the guys from that. The rest where annoying bopping retards and the others were my friends. Hmmm maybe you should meet this guy Geoffrey. You know hang out. LOL. You'll have a ball. He's one of my friends. Kind of resemble Ty Pennington.

S: Why dont u ever have an interest??Yea u mentioned the Ty look-alike - I dont think so lol. As friends sure. we can all hang out.

C: Yeah that's what i meant. He's really fun to hang out with. Well the drummer wasn't really my type, not like I have a type. But he was short and looked very young. I was just having fun. I was dancing with him. Why do I have to always be interested in every guy I meet? I'm just going out to have a good time. If someone does strike me of interest it'll happen on it's own not me going out looking for it.

S: I know ur not looking for it, but everytime u go out & meet someone - he's not ur type lol. Is anyone ever going to interest you? Why dont you try americansingles.com ....?

C: HELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL NO! NO THANK YOU. I'm fine all by myself. I've got other priorities in my life and it's my music and finding my happiness with my everyday life. I've been single my entire life and I've lived with out a relationship. I'm fine, really. Funny idea, but it's not for me. Time will bring someone to me and when it does I'll be happy with it.

S: Ok :)

And that was it. My talk on not wanting to find anyone interesting. I'm fine, really, all by myself.