I’m sure we’ve all wondered this at some point. How can I gather a dedicated following? How can I entice people with my thoughts? How do I get famous for my writing? No? Just me? Ok.
I’ve never subscribed to a blog. In fact, up until last year I didn’t even subscribe to channels on Youtube. I didn’t understand the purpose. Why would I want to be constantly updated about your make-up routine? Do I really need to follow you to Target? Is it my business that your 2yr old has stopped breast-feeding? Then one day I stumbled across this young man telling a story. A simple story about his first time dating outside his race. However, his story was so comically unreal I was hooked. I couldn’t wait to hear what happened next and when it ended I wanted to watch it again. So I did. Then I watched another video of him recanting his 12th birthday. Then another of him explaining why he still lived at home and before I knew it I had watched 10 of this mans videos. I understood now. Other’s lives can be interesting. So interesting in fact, that you feel the need to know almost daily what they’re up to. People who like you, work, live and play. People who understand your struggle to lose weight. They understand your frustration with Obama. They totally relate to taking it up the butt……they get you.
The phenomenon of vlogging has encompassed my generation. “World!! I must tell you, NO! Show you, what my life is like! Follow me as I……go to school” However blogging requires a bit more brain cells. Formulating a complete paragraph, in writing and letting the world read it takes balls. Getting people to like it…..that takes something else. Something I haven’t exactly found yet. In all honesty, I’m not even sure it’s something I really want. Should somebody be waiting with baited breath for me to tell them about how much I hate math? I feel like that’s a universal sentiment. But who knows, maybe I can spin it in a way you’ve yet to hear. For now I’ll continue to be the lazy un-famous blogger that you barely know and kinda like.
I have a test at 1….. I didn’t study. Not so much because I don’t care, but because I believe in the depths of my soul that studying is counter productive. Yes, sounds lazy I know. However I’ve come to realize that I remember a lot of stuff, stuff I don’t even mean to remember half the time. The problem is recalling it on que. I can remember the name of the perfume the lady at Sephora recommended to me 2 months ago, but the 3 P’s of productivity? I either know them or I don’t. In this case I don’t, more importantly I don’t want to. If I had wasted 20 mins of my life studying the 3 P’s of productivity I would’ve never seen my puppy chase her tail for the first time. Those 3 P’s would’ve taken a precious memory from me…..damn those 3 P’s. And what the hell are the 3 P’s going to do for me in the long run, honestly? If I haven’t been productive before this point in my life, is suddenly being aware of the 3 P’s going to improve that probability? Probably not. Phuck the P’s.
P.S. The 3 P’s are positivity, performance, and precision
P.S.S…… I just made those up…..they sound good though, right? 🙂
When you’re wrong….you’re wrong.
You know how I know karma is real? That bitch keeps slapping me in the back of my head. There’s this one particular time when she pretty much sucker punched the breath out of me and honestly I deserved it. You ever been in a relationship, happily in a relationship I might add, but it seems like everything thing walking is suddenly attracted to you? And try as you might to ignore the looks and flirtatious conversations sometimes somebody just catches your eye. I had been with my boyfriend for 2 yrs, the longest long distance relationship ever. 2 different countries, 2 different time zones, it was ridiculous but we made it work. Forced it damn near. We loved each other, there was no doubting that but being separated that long brought its’ fair share of issues, trust being one of them. You get into a routine of calling at certain times, texting when possible. Those things become the very life line of the relationship. So when the life line is stretched or pressed things start to crumble. During this particular season it seemed that EVERYTHING was pushing the limits. One too few “I love you’ s”, not enough paid attention during a conversation. Too many dropped or missed calls, so much tension in the air. So when my job sent me to training that lasted 6 weeks, it was almost no surprise that 2 weeks in, our relationship was hanging by a thread. It did not help that during this training there were quite a few eye catching men who had no problem distracting me from my frustrations. One guy in particular was bold enough to ask me out on a date. Of course I said no and made it clear I was in a relationship, but that didn’t stop him from staring, smiling, and yes winking when he caught my eye. It was ridiculous. Trying to contain my excitement from having someone notice me and in the next thought cursing myself for enjoying it. And then the subsequent guilt for not remembering my loving but aggravating boyfriend. To make matters worse, Mr. Bold had a friend who I will deem Mr. Nice Guy. Now Mr. Nice guy was funny, and sweet. He was talkative and friendly with everyone so I had no problem becoming friends with Mr. Nice guy. I thought it was a platonic friendship. Thought. Now during this time while I am making friends and rightfully enjoying the time away from my job and the training, my boyfriend is about at his wits end with my new schedule. Phones weren’t allowed in the classroom during this training so the random texting throughout the day stopped. There were lots of projects and research required, so most of my down time was spent at the training facility with my group or at the library. This however was no excuse for my love. I don’t know if it was really the time constraint or the sudden popularity among the opposite sex (probably both…yea I’ll go with both) but I no longer had the patience to deal with my relationship, so I ended it. 2yrs out the window. Done. It was on a Wednesday and I cried all night, but by Friday my new friends insisted we go out for drinks. Everyone from training would be there, so it seemed only right that I go. In fact Mr. Nice Guy was nice enough to send me a message on Facebook making sure I was coming. And my now ex-boyfriend was kind enough to check my Facebook for me and let me know that Mr. Nice Guy wanted to make sure I was coming. ….
Honestly I do. As much as I talk to myself, you’d think typing it up wouldn’t be an issue……WRONG. I spend 80% of my day in front of a computer screen…at work. The last think I want to do when I get home is sit in front of the computer, so I just stare at my phone screen lol. Seriously though I have been working on some awesome stuff, haven’t finished any of it, but it’s pretty good so far. Actually I think I’ll post a snippet of one of the stories. For the time being I’ll just keep posting my thoughts, as they come and go….
“Anything you can do, I can do better” I loved that song as a kid. Never did I imagine as an adult I would find myself repeating it silently in my head almost daily. Women’s equality has always been an issue in the world….the big wide all-consuming world. But I didn’t think it applied to my small world. You see I’m employed by a male dominated work force. It’s a fact that’s painfully obvious. Us girls make up about 14%. However for the past 6 years my office has been equally mixed, or dominantly female. I was living in a small secure bubble that was about to be popped into obscurity. 6 months ago I moved to a new section. Ecstatic about having job growth and new experiences, the fact that I was going to be working with 9 men didn’t seem important. That was my first misconception of many. I’ve always had the assumption that my employer only hired educated, progressive, and cultured (or those capable of one day gaining these attributes) individuals. That, I’ve found is not nearly the case. Upon my first week of work, while slowly acquiring tools needed to accomplish my daily task, I was advised not to “feminize” my area. Actually I was jokingly (not joking) told not to “hang a bunch of girly $h!t”, followed by a course of laughter. Naturally I immediately went out after work and bought the most girlish décor I could think of at the time. Am I into girly things? Sure I’m a woman, I like pretty things. However I have never in my 7 years of employment purposely decorated my area with any specific girlish décor. I didn’t even have my bedroom decorated. My cubicle now looks like Tinker Bell and her fairy friends dumped steaming piles of fairy dust and friendship on it, just for the enjoyment of my fellow coworkers. Do I like Tinker Bell? Sure I occasionally watched Tink and her friends with my 5 yr old daughter; she makes some very good points about sharing and caring. My purpose for utilizing her though was not for my love of all things fairy, but I’m almost 100% sure no one else in this office was told not to hang “girly $h!t”. In hindsight, if I had thought this through (as my husband suggested as I stormed through Target filling my cart with anything pink, purple or periwinkle) I would have realized I have to sit here not them. It does amuse me however when upper management (all male) walks through with furrowed eyebrows because it looks like a legit fairy princess lives in my cubicle. They never say anything, just stare then advert their eyes when I make eye contact……
I never thought of myself as an artist. In fact if I could pick somebody in my family who was the least artistic I would come second only to my brothers failed rapping career (Let it go Ed). However lately I’ve felt as if my written word play could be categorized as artistic. I wish I could transcribe all the qwerky thoughts that pop into my head randomly. “The wetness from his kiss left a sticky sweet syrup of a quiver on my lips” That line makes me smile 🙂 If I could sit around all day writing or rewriting to add sense’s to stories or kick to lines, I’d be in heaven. Just right now I’m suppose to be writing a biology paper on bacteria, but I don’t wanna write about bacteria. I wanna write about kisses hahaha. Later I might wanna write about swimming or dreaming. I never know I just write. I have so many things I want to say, so many conundrums that fill my head. I’m guessing this is what it feels like to know what it is you want to do with your life. The doubt eats’ at me though. What if it’s not as good as you think, what if they don’t get it. What if it’s too simple….. well I don’t want it to be so deep it’s confusing either hahaha. I have 2 weeks left in this class then I’m dedicating my summer to writing. I honestly have nothing else to do.
Smoking was my nastiest habit
that’s how I think of you
A blemish on my perfectly imperfect life
You live to make mistakes
promises made to be broken, lies told when words spoken
I don’t dislike what transpired
I was drawn to it
dragged to it like the nicotine from the filter of my newports
that rushing high felt when your drug of false love hit my veins
left me feeling filthy like the ash tray of a mouth I had
the blanket of a toddler being pulled across the floor
mindlessly cause you cling to it but chase every bright object that crosses your eye
you wouldn’t let me go
No matter how hard I tried to kick the habit
I was always brought back
even now the thought of a puff makes me lick my lips in wonder
A daddy’s girl I’ll always be
Your first born love
made for the world to see
Held in your arms
shielded from hurt and pain
you whispered “my babygirl”
and told me my name
From first steps to first words
you watched your babygirl grow
and showed her something
that she’d always know
That her daddy’s love
is unconditional everyday
no matter if he’s near
or very far away
And even now it’s clear
for everyone to see
that no one can take away
what my daddy’s given to me
Even if a love
has left me with a broken heart
my daddy’s there to mend it
and remind me who’s loved me from the start
And when he put’s me in my place
after bad choices I’ve made
through my tears he shows me
that tomorrow’s a new day
From my birth to my death
and all time in between
My Daddy’s “babygirl” I will always be……
It’s tragically beautiful the way you want to die
deep cuts, big bruises
Tragic only because you are loved
Beautiful because you don’t know you are loved