Writing My Wrongs

I have been struggling all day to remember what it is that I have been up to but…everything seems so jumbled. Ever been like that before? When one mishap in your life seems to upset the whole groove of how you function.

Let me think…
I told you about me being in Maryland. Not a success but I enjoyed being there and am very anxious to live there. I tell you by July 1 I am in that piece SON!

I was going to take pictures of my ankles…so you can see the ridiculousness in how I abuse my body. I had a bruise the size of a nerf football on my shin/ankle/foot…it’s attributed to the night out I had at The Orgy show. I sorta drank too many white Russians and then sorta fell down my concrete steps in these heels…

Which, as you can see in pic, lead me to somehow breaking my floor candle holder. Yea, it was pretty bad but…up until that point…was fun as fuck…I think. Two weeks later, and candle holder is still on the floor with shards of glass that keep me from walking over by my tv. If I loose my remote I will be shit outta luck. Why not just clean it up and throw it away? That would make too much sense dammit.

I will say that that weekend the purple rope was introduced and I was actually ridden like a damn rodeo horse but…that too might have just been my imagination…although, it wasn’t the same night as the drunkenness…hmmm

I haven’t had any dates in the week that I have been back from DC area. Just not feelin’ anyone. I don’t feel like being “entertaining”…and if we can’t sit through some hot wings and some beer in silence while watching play-offs…then I’d rather not even be bothered with nonsense… ‘cause as I have said…miscellaneous isn’t walking up in this spot anymore.

Monday I spent the day in the bed…partly because I was hung over from drinking 2 Bloody Mary’s and having 3 shots of Patron (yes muthafucka, I know I need to learn to mix correct liquors instead of random picks!) on Sunday evening. I normally drink Bloody Mary’s when I am hungry…tomato juice and all. At the time, seemed like a good plan…but even the best laid plans of mice and men can…get fucked up every now and then. Just sayin’.

Allow me my vices right now…I am going through some shit dammit!

The other reason I was in bed all day was because I have been having what you’d call PDS…pre/post-stress syndrome. I am constantly nauseated and my stomach feels like it’s being torn apart. My father-dear seems to think I should go get checked for an ulcer…umm, would daddy, but I have no job…which means no insurance. That of course is bullshit for me just not wanting to go sit at the DR’s office. There is actually a place that I can go…relatively cheap and non-clinic-like. Blah!

So, because my pappy knows I am going through some thangs… he has decided the best way to get my mind off some shit and remove me from my circumstances for a minute…
Is to take me to China.

So yesterday I spent 5 hours at the Chinese Consulate in NYC to get a visa… I should hang out there every day until I leave… ...as I was telling AJ…
I don’t like when ppl don’t speak English. Might as well get used to listening to Chinese on a regular. I know that’s borderline racist…or is that bigotry? Either way, accents and non-english speaking persons sorta bug. This coming from someone who grew up in the bay area AND currently lives in NYC...two of the most diverse areas in the country.

Father-darling has a whole itinerary of things he wants to show me…one being the Great Wall of China. As I have said many a time…my daddy swears he’s Asian. He’s been to China more times than I can count…and only to Africa twice. He practices Tai-Chi and has learned to write in Chinese calligraphy and volunteers at the Museum of Chinese Art (or something like that in SF’s Chinatown)…he’s dated 3 Asian women that I know of…but he’s always stayed true to my grandmothers dictate “don’t marry anyone but a black woman.”
I am super excited on the mellow tip. I just wish my situation was a little more defined before I left the country.

My Dizzy Gillespie poster is on Two and a Half Men… if you see their living room…it’s hanging on the wall where the stairs are. Just sayin’.

Also, today…a friend of mine who I don’t speak to from the bay area, texts me to let me know that a guy I used to date was shot and killed in Berkeley. I was wondering where she got my number from. Was gonna ask her but didn’t bother responding.

Mace always had me smiling. We knew each other for years but only dated for a few months. He used to tease me about being older than him even though he looked older than me.
I remember one night there were 8 of us hanging out… we had gone from spot to spot in Berkeley and Oakland and finally around 4 in the morning we were the ones to drive all those muthafuckas home…
I was bugging or something and I missed getting in the turning lane and he let me slide in front of him but as my luck would have it…police were waiting for drunks from the club…they pulled me over and I remember thinking “these bitches about to take me to jail for DUI, how the hell do I explain that to my daddy!” Mace had actually made it on the freeway and ended up getting off the next exit and coming back. He parked his car in front of mine and just got out and waited on the sidewalk. The police kept asking him to get back in his car but his little defiant ass said he had a right to be on the city sidewalks that he paid taxes for which if you know anything about OPD…is gangsta…
(’cause OPD will fuck a muthafucka up just for jay-walking …remember Tupac and OPD).
I didn’t get anything but a ticket that night which is surprising… I was the only one drunk but everyone else was ex'd up on E. I guess I looked less fucked up than everyone else. Mace followed me until I dropped off everyone and then he finally dropped off his car load of ppl. Yea, he was a good guy…always talking about his boys. I pray his family much peace.

From that night, I ended up acquiring a policeman who stalked me for a year. The very same bastid that gave me the ticket tried to get in my pants. I think that man must have pulled me over at least 7 more times…and fuck me if it wasn’t always when I was coming home from the club drunk. I ended up having to get in touch with ANOTHER OPD guy I was dating...to let him know that I needed other police dude to stop doing drive-bys at my home. Policmen scare me...I've "dated" enough t know that they aren't to be fucked with...buncha overly aggressive-hyped-up-on-tryna-shoot-someone-adrenaline.


Disturbing Thing #2:
I like playing with spaghetti...after you cook it and it's straining...it's all limp...and long and cold...and fun to just play with.
That sounded way weird...almost sexual in a gross kind of way. I have been making and eating spaghetti like crazy lately...I'mma be big as a house soon.




That's enough...I will write ya soon.

...and I am ...
OUT!