You Cannot Fall From Grace...

Hey Blogbabies!!

I finally got around to reading my October issue of Ebony with Whitney.

And dammit if I don't love her all the more!

Sidebar- Ebony outdoes Essence any day. I subscribe to both, but article-wise, Ebony writers are just on a whole nother skill set, son!

Anywho, I have always loved Whitney. From the time my dad got the first album where she had no damn hair

(wasn't no compact disc back then, lol)

til now.

Messiness and all. And strangely enough, the messier she became the more I (and many of ya'll too) adored her. Why? It showed that she is human.

The part that caught me the most in the article was a statement she made:

"...I thank him for chastening my heart, for never letting go. What I did sometimes... I went off and did my thing, but He never let me go"

Amen, Whitney.

She goes on to talk about her process of praying and asking God to correct what was wrong with her," to lift her so she could see her light again."

*Monie tears up*

I won't lie-- watching her on Being Bobby Brown was pure hilarity. I wasn't at all surprised that she could behave like that. First of all, she is a Leo. And!

Look at who she used to date.

Eddie Murphy

(crazy ass)

Darryl Strawberry

(cokehead ass)... cmon!

Ebony said that Whitney "fell from grace"

*Monie casts her infamous 'ho please' look*

First of all, cain't nobody fall from GOD's grace, which is the only grace that matters, ya dig? If you're a Christian you know that it is a free gift through Jesus Christ. The very fact that you can rise back after being so down bottom shows that it is impossible to be stripped of God's grace and his love.

This story affects me so much because it parallels my own.

C'mon let me show you the dark side of Monie. :)

I was diagnosed with Agoraphobia in 2007. Go'n and click that there if you don't know what it is.

It is the reason I had to move back home from the urrea. A combination of shit was going on in my life starting from like, May of that year.

Every month I seemed to sink deeper and deeper into depression. I had never been so unhappy in my life.

I stayed drinking. Like my entire purpose of drinking was to drink until I became so drunk that I could not feel anything and could not care about anything.
I stayed in the clubs like my name was on the damn lease.

And I never missed church on a Sunday through it all, lol.

Looking back, I think I always knew that even at my messiest I understood God sees it all and knows it all. I think it was also my way of trying to assure myself that if I did go, God wouldn't forget about me, despite my behavior.


So there I was I hanging out with T's hoodbooga ass, on the road to becoming a hoodbooga my damn self... and shit was just spiraling out of control.
But for some crazy reason I kept trying to convince myself that I was happy because I SHOULD be happy.

The week before my 25th birthday I felt like i had enough. I came home from work with the intention of committing suicide. With a Cheap bottle of Moet that was just sitting in my freezer and a huge bottle of Ibuprofen. I turned off my cellphone and plugged out my landline, ready to go!

Obviously, a bitch is still here, and I am so glad I didn't go through with it.

I won't go into all the detail, but in the middle of thinking about what it is that I was actually about to do... I knew it wasn't right. I knew it was not the way that I was supposed to go out. I remember just calling on Jesus over and over again until I was strong enough to pour the Moet down the sink. When I turned my phone back on my Mom was actually calling, and said she sensed something was wrong with me. Scary, huh?

So after that happened, one would've thought I'd start making changes. However, I was not in the right state of mind. Clearly. The one good thing I did was start my masters, but I continued with my usual madness. Drinking, partying. And I thought it was alright cause I was still going to church. I'd be at the alter every Sunday. Even started going to Bible Study. And hitting the club afterwards.

*Monie turns up the Temptations' "Ball of Confusion" on her radio*

Towards the end of September the panic attacks started.

Now, I 've dealt with panic attacks off and on for the past 9 years, but this time it was just turrbull!

And they'd happen in the strangest of places. The first time I remember getting one, I was drunk in the drive thru of Mc Donalds on Georgia Ave. After that, I'd get them on the metro. Even though I was only on metro for all of 4 stops, it felt like an eternity. I tried taking the bus, but then I started getting attacks on the bus. I got scared of being alone, and I swore everyone was looking at me crazy.

I felt like I always needed someone close to me, like,i stopped trusting myself to take care of myself. and that is one of the worst feelings you can ever have, let me tell you.

Thank God for Nikks who always used to come rescue me since I basically gave her loan of my car to the point it was like it was hers anyway :) And no matter what, she'd always come and get me. There is nothing like knowing you have a friend that is always there for you when you're in a situation like that.
One day I was basically stranded at work because I started becoming afraid of having the panic attacks. That's when I knew something had to give. I didn't want to keep having to depend on people, so I packed my things into storage, took Dinka cat, and moved on back home to NY by October.

I remember the last time I went to church in Maryland, I stood at the alter, just wanting God to work a miracle right then and there. But sometimes miracles are slow. However, there was an affirmation. After the prayer the Pastor turned to the whole congregation and told them God had something big in store for my life. And mind you, I was not the only one up there.

But ... things with me got worse before they got better.

The panic was becoming even more severe. I wasn't even be able to sit in a car to go around the corner. I would have to lay down on the floor in the back seat just to get anywhere. I was even afraid of being home by myself. I knew I had to go to therapy, so I went. That's when I was diagnosed with the Agoraphobia. It got to the point where I was housebound because I was so afraid, and because I was unable to do anything that made me even more depressed.

It took me 7 months, therapy, 2 Iyanla Vanzant books, and God to settle my behind down and realize I was in fact battling some shit under the surface.

First of all, I was damn angry. And I would spazz on my mom and my sister for the dumbest things at the drop of a pin.

But I realized why I was so angry:

In my eyes I felt like a coward for not being strong enough to stick it out, and that made me angry. I was angry at my parents for all the things they did and did not do. I was angry at some of my friends because I felt taken advantage of. However, what made me the most angry was that I never spoke up about any of it. I'd just repress it. I just started confronting my anger this year. Therapy has taught me that it's ok to be angry; that it will not drive you crazy, it's how you express it.

And worse,I realized that I did not love myself. I thought that I did, but I really didn't. People, understand that you cannot love yourself if you don't realize your self worth and don't speak up when someone is doing you foul. And you cannot claim to love someone else if you don't love yourself. How are you trying to go out of your way to please and love someone when you can't do it for you? The shit is impossible.

Now, when I came home, I had stopped going to church because 1, I didn't want to panic at church,and 2, I started thinking that God wasn't listening to me, didn't care about me anymore, and the situation was to be my fate.

*Enter imaginary donkey*
*Donkey brays: he haw he haw, ho*
*Exit donkey*

LOL

I mean, here it was I was getting worse. Eventually I started praying again. I even found it in my heart to talk to my dad after not speaking to him for 3 years. Then my mom talked me into going to church again last January.

Mannn... every Sunday I would cry at church. I mean EVERY SUNDAY. There always seemed to be something in the message that was speaking to me. But hell, I was crying like every other day back then anyway, lol.

Then around March I found a book that I had brought a lonnnggg time ago. Like, 7 years ago by Iyanla Vanzant, called One Day My Soul Just Opened Up.

I don't know why I hadn't read it before then, but I guess God knew I would need it eventually. It helped me so much. I learned so much about myself and confronted so many things that I didn't want to. Go'n and click that last sentence. Buy it, I guarantee you will see a change.

In May, I went on up to the alter at church, crying of course, and got saved.

*Monie, you sure don't act like you saved!*

Oh,but I am!

Being saved is recognizing Jesus is your savior. I have battled with myself long enough about how I behave and things that I do. I'm more into knowing and loving God and Jesus than abiding by religious rules and regulations. I have gotten the side eye plenty of time for wearing makeup, and exposing cleavage at church. I don't care what anyone has to say, God knows I think I'm sexy. Lol. God knows everything about me. We have a good relationship. He knows I'm silly. He knows my hormones rage. He also knows that I have a good heart and I try my best to be a good person to and help my fellow brethren/sisteren. He knows when I'm being good, and he most definitely knows when I'm being bad. He knows all that, and He loves me. Regardless.

These days I am so at peace. If you have ever not been at peace, then you know how much it means to have it. I understand that I am where I am meant to be at this point of my life. I can travel places on my own, and panic doesn't run my life anymore. I still feel anxious from time to time, but I know it will pass. Still working on my driving, but I know I'm gonna get there. And if I feel like panic is going to be so unbearable I embrace it, love it like an annoying little brother, pray, and worst case scenario, pop a Klonopin. :)

I have learned to love myself, both the good parts and the bad parts.

I know my self worth. And I don't hesitate to check folks anymore.

Fall from grace?

*Monie laughs heartily; startling Dinka causing him to run into a wall*

hehehehe

I never fell from grace. How could I ever?
How can any of us ever??? I am God's child. Me falling from grace is impossible. Whitney falling from grace...impossible! You falling from grace.... say it loud...IMPOSSIBLE!

He worked the best miracle that I could ever receive. He allowed me to know Him. It took 2 panic-ridden, stress-filled years to do so, but I wouldn't change a thing. Why?

It had to happen the way it did. I am stubborn. That's my nature. And had I not been brought to the lowest of my low, God could not have penetrated my mind and my spirit the way he had.

I'd still be one confused, drunken little child doing the Walk it Out in the clubhouse. LOL!

(Granted, I still drink, but I am a whole lot more sober these days. And as of August, I've stuck with the one drink minimum. Go me!)

I'm saying though... it's a process.

So even if I never go on to become world famous or do something iconic, that's alright.

You just read it...God has already done so much for me.

I've been delivered.

Just like Whitney Houston.

"We've got somethin' in common!"

LOL

*Monie reaches for her Kleenex*

And that's all for today.

Be blessed Blog Babies!

xoxomonie!

"You're NEGATIVE, honey."

What.


A.


Week!!!





So if you've been following, you know that I recently went to go get blood work done after my visit to the GYN and I was freaking out because of the condom mishap w/ Drunken Munchkin.

Tuesday I went to the lab so they could draw blood and all that great stuff. However, I couldn't take not knowing my status another day. Tuesday and Wednesday I prayed, moped, worried, and complained about whether I was okay or not. My dear sister suggested that since I was so worried about the HIV that she and I go on over to Planned Parenthood and just take a test. I love her. :D

Today was the big day. Talk about being a bundle of nerves. I had the 'rhea (diarrhea) all morning, couldn't eat, just a ball of nerves; reading my Bible and constantly praying.


Thank goodness for Tales From A Groupie because it distracted me for a bit.

And is now one of my favorite blogs to read in my pastime.
I read one helluva story about Mavado. Wrote a blog about that, I'll post it after this.

I digress--

Anywho, my sister and I go to Planned Parenthood. Everyone in the waiting room is looking on edge. One girl called up whoever gave her an STD right there in the middle of waiting room and told the guy, Billy was his name, that she was going to kill him, and that she knew she" got it from him". Then she proceeded to call Billy's mama, ya'll. Everyone in the waiting room looked even more tense after that hot shit.

So they finally call my name.

I go in there, they give me the little pamphlet on the HIV, make me sign a consent form, and show me how to swab my mouth for the testing.

Swab, swab... and then...

I'm waiting what seems to be the longest 20 minutes of my life as the two nurse practitioners so nonchalantly talk about:

• teens with Chlamydia
  
• how Gonorrhea is still in action
  
• Syphillis too!
  
• lipstick parties
  
• the nurse who has been exposing people to Hepatitis C
  

Now, I'm already anxious as a muthaf/ck. Having to hear all that did not make me feel any better. Finally the timer goes off, and the Nurse Practitioner turns my swab stick around.

"You're negative, honey."

Best three words I've ever heard in my life.


I feel the need to share this story because all this time I've been going to my primary care physician thinking that they've been testing me for HIV during my physicals. I just heard from my therapist that it has just become apart of mandatory blood testing this year in the State of New York. Why? New York, you doing it all wrong, son!!

For the most part I have been socially responsible. I've had unprotected sex with 3 men in the 13 years I've been having sex, and that one condom breakage.... however, you never know where someone else has been and what they've been doing.

Life and good health is something precious. From now on me and whoever I have a sexual relationship with will be heading on over to the Planned Parenthood before anything pops off.

And if I have vacay sex, that ain't nothing but a thing. My older sister works in HIV/AIDS outreach down there. We can go together.

I feel like I've been playing Russian Roulette and lucked up.

From now on, every 6 months on the 16th of whatever month I land on, I'm going for an HIV test. Even if I ain't poppin' off, I'm still going to go. That means I'm due to go January 16, 2010.

There's nothing like knowing. Tonight I can rest peacefully. I pray the lab tests don't show anything bad either. I should know about that next week or so.

Besos Muffins!!


♥ Monie

GET TESTED, YA'LL!!

Testifyin' and what not

i'm leavinnn on a jet plane... but not to worry, i will be back next tuesday (if ya cared) :D Jamaica trip #2 tommorow. Not quite excited yet. When I step off the plane, that's when it'll kick in... if the Klonopin has worn off by then

*shrug*

This time I will be writing from abroad... because my mom bought me a laptop as an "your-almost-done-with-your-Masters" present:D

Looking forward to some relaxation on the beach, jetskiing, partying, all of that. Seeing my family. Not really concerned w/ boyfriend #4 right now. I dipped into his email again, and he's there writing to his old woman boo, telling her he misses talking to her and has been calling her like crazy. Rocko said it best:

"You just do you, umma do meee"

Because I am.

I was talking to Pop Pop on the i/m the other day and he pointed out that we (Boyfriend #4 and I) were both wrong for trying to lock down our body parts for each other when we really don't know each other to have that kind of relationship and trust.

*Cue in the soft & pink Wendy Williams music*

That Pop Pop is a wise man. We don't talk as much as we used to anymore, and we live quite far from each other now, however, I appreciate him for all that he's been to me in the time I've known him. Pop Pop is really good at telling people to get it together in a way that is calm and non-judgemental; something a lot of people (that I know) are not very skilled at. This works for me because under my psuedo-tough exterior, I'm quite marshmellow-like. Anywho, Pop Pop, I know you don't really read this as much as you would like to(haha), but thanks. I ♥ you... not in that "I wanna take your clothes off and kiss you in the mouth"-type way, hehee. Yes, even though you are sexy as hell. :D

*End music*

In other events...I'm a lot more calmer about my situation. I cried, prayed on it, and God told me that I am alright.

It's about to be one of those rare moments where my morals and values shine through:

God is real; never let anyone tell you otherwise. If you don't believe in him, well, that's your gripe. I'm not here to judge. However, I do pray that you DO come to know him one day. It's a beautiful thing.

It is my opinion that intuition is God speaking to you. Ever notice how when you don't listen to intuition, things go madly wrong, i.e. click that right there?

Anywho, there was one profound time when God whispered in my ear, and I am so greatful that I knew to listen because it saved my mother's life.

Kick back and grab your cocoa mug ya'll; story time!

When I was 15 (if I recall correctly; it's been soooo long) one morning I was dreaming that my mother was calling out to me. At the time she and my dad had their bed set up downstairs because we were re-doing the house. So, I woke up, went to the top of the stairs and called out "Mom?"

No answer.

So I chalked it up to dreaming; turned around ready to get back in the bed because it was still early, but something said "Go downstairs to your mother."

So I went downstairs to see my mother face down on the ground, with the alarm clock next to her; blood pouring from her mouth. Very scary, but for some reason, I didn't feel a lick of fear (which is very unlike my scaredy-cat ass)

I turned her over and sat her up. She seemed kind of in a daze, but thank God she was alive. I called 9-1-1 and then told my grandmother and sister to come downstairs. 9-1-1 told us to sit her up and put her legs up on a chair because it sounded like she had a stroke.

And that was exactly what happened. My mom was 43 years old at the time, and had a stroke. This is a woman who doesn't drink, or smoke, and was (still is) healthy and a stunning size 4 at age 55. Very reserved, and the opposite of me. The only tell-tale sign that she's my mama is that we look just alike. I'm just the fatter version, hehehehe

Her stroke was more than likely, naw, scratch, lets be honest, was a result of putting up with my father and his shennanigans and being a work-a-holic (because he never kept a steady job). Note to all, when something is draining you and stressing you out, WALK AWAY. walking away is not the same as giving up.

Anywhosit, I'm glad that I listened to the voice of God and went downstairs to see about her, because she probably would have not been here today. And I would probably be even more of a hot mess than I already am :)p

I didn't save her, God did. I don't take any of the credit.

I tell you allllladat to tell you this; if you take a little time to be quiet; to be still when you're thinking over your pressing issues, God will let you know what it is that you need to do.

Last week when I came back from the GYN and was told that I probably had a thyroid condition (in addition to being worried about the whole Dick Stress issue); I came home distraught ya'll. Bawling and the whole 9. I hadn't been reading my Bible regularly like I used to/should have been, but there in the face of a problem I ran to it.

I forget which passage I turned to, but the heading was "Do Not Worry". I read it, and then wrote out my prayers in my prayer book. When I turned back to read it again, I saw that it wasn't on that page anymore. I don't remember turning the page either, but I flipped back and found it. I understand that God was giving me a message; not to worry, and that everything was going to be fine. He said it, and I'm listening.

Amen.

So other than that, I'm still Monie. Still silly, crazy, expressing myself to the nth and learning and growing along life's journey.

To all my new readers, thank you for joining! I'm still checking you all out. I'm still in amazement that I started this blog the day after Christmas '08 and its got 128 readers since then.

Hopefully when I turn this mafucka' into a book ya'll will buy it :D

And before I leave you...

How much do I love Showtime on Demand for FINALLY putting "Why Did I Get Married?" on demand. That means I get to see Michael Jai White's sexy body whenever I want; rewind the shit, and just ooh chile. Look at 'im:

don't you just wanna put your arms under his and grab him all up on top of his shoulders, and thrust? Woooo chile! hehehee

besoskiddies!

monie

Dick Stress, Dick Retirement

Hey Blog Muffins!

I know; I've been scarce. Between school work, stressing, prepping for JA vacay Part II, and other little stuff....life's been busy.

My Gripe:

So when we last left off in this soap opera that is my life (aka The Young & the Reckless, lol), I was supposed to go to Planned Parenthood to get my exam and STI panel.

*sigh*

Can we just say that I do not appreciate Planned Parenthood playing with my vagina? They called me like the day before to tell me they had to reschedule me because the doc/nurse practicioner wouldn't be in that day. It kind of worked out to my benefit though, because I found a gynecologist that lives practically around the corner.

All week I stressed myself out wondering if I had this or that STI. I spent majority of my free time watching The Golden Girls, eating ice cream cups, drinking glass fulls of Very Vanilla Silk Soymilk ( trying to combat the fat with Alli Pills) and googling STI's and their symptoms.

Why?

Because I am a hypochondriac.

Between all the stress and sweets I wound up with this big ass zit on my forehead. I just can't wait for tommorow to get my exam. I'm still praying everything is okay. I haven't spoken to D/m either. I don't think I'll ever have relations with him again. He turned me ALL the way off with those cheap, triffling ass Durex condoms.

....buuuuut then again, I've sworn up, down, and sideways that I'd never smash that again...now here I am... worried about my health and my vagina. I could beat my self.

On another note...

I'm already considering hagning up my pimp jersey. Even though I've barely gotten started.

Matter fact, I'm gonna just retire from dick (after my vacay, lls)

There should be like, an AFLAC for dick retirement.

Call that joint Dflac. You should be able to receive:

• monthly/ bi-monthly checks (depending on how dick-deprived one is) to be used on toys, antidepressant co-pays, and food
• stuffed duck keychain
• some type of membership award club card for not getting dicked down.

Duck, duck, goose, bitch :D

Folks, we need to see about making this official.

I'm just gonna put Pocahontas on lock, maintain this pace I have going with my school work, party, and enjoy my summer, dick-free.

I cannot handle having two sexual relationships.

I ain't built for this shit.

It's too stressful.

I think a big part of me went through with slaying D/m because I felt like I needed insurance dick or possibly, get-back dick.
Let's define 'em:

What's insurance dick?

Insurance dick is like get back dick, only it happens ahead of time, before a dumb ass gets to hurt your feelings, break your heart, cheat on you first; you know, stuff like that.

Get back dick is when ole boy fucks up and you feel the need to be vengeful. So you ride the next dick in hopes to feel better.

It works.

Sometimes.

Anywho, I never used to invest in insurance dick, but after being hurt time and again, there have been two times I just had to take it there. I'm a Leo; we like revenge...what can I say. This is something I've been working on.

Dear God,

I'm trying. You know I am. Help me to be better. Amen.

I digress-- so yeah. When I saw that B/f #4 was getting his little email mack on, I was quite vexed. Consequently, this did play a role in me smashing D/m... so much to the point that while I was enjoying the artform that is cunnilingus, I was simultaneously reveling on the fact that I was getting mine, and b/f #4 was now on the decietful end of the stick.

Even though I put myself in fool situations sometimes, I hate being played for the fool. Quite oxymoronic, I know.

Maybe I'll continue to juggle and not have sex w/ any of them? I'll sort this out at therapy this week.

Decisions..decisions...

If only I could meet one normal, sane man that actually likes me. That would cut out 1/3 of my drama! Maybe one day I will be so lucky.

*shrug*

Anyway, I'm gonna go get some rest. Tommorow's my big day :D

xoxomonie!!!

Yeah, I Got It In, but...

So Friday night, I did not end up at Prime. Ya'll know what that means, right?

Yup! Trollopfication.

*sigh*

K. didn't have a babysitter (as usual-- which is always the reason plans get left abandoned), so I was set to stay in. Earlier in the day D/m had text me, and left things open, so I wasn't really looking to see him:

Him: Hey Miss *Enter My Last Name*

Me: Hey Mr. *Enter His last name

Him: Whats going on miss?

Me: I should be asking you...

Him: Y u say that

Me: Aint you supposed to service my parts?

Him: You are up for inspection, aren't you?

Me: Indeed. I hope I pass..it's been a while

I don't hear shit from him til eight hours later. As we all know, I don't deal with the fisher price-romper room type of games when it comes to getting my shit off.

So I text him at 9-something:

Me: So...

Him: Just awoke from my afternoon nap

Me: What a long nap. You was drankin??

Him: Now y would i be doing that? Are you in for the night?

Me: Well, so far I am. u?

Him: I am if you tryna see me

Me: I told u i was tryna see u from last week. Stop playing hard to get and shit :)p

Him: Cool, u dressed?

Me: I will be in 15 minutes

(I had already started my shower/shave/scrub procedure from when I first hit him with the text around 9. Talk about being sure of yourself, smh)

Him: ok

Me (about 10 minutes later): Ready when you are

Him: Ok, be there in like 10

So a whole half hour passes (damn, I hate CP time), and he texts me that he's outside. I head out, get in the car, and we head over to his place which is not far. We get in there, of course he's talk, talk, talking away. We talked for an hour and half (yes, I kept my eye on the clock) about basically nothing. So I start getting restless, and ask him if he has anything to drank. He's got rum and coke, I tell him to go get that shit and commence to taking off my pants.

So I can be comfortable while having my drink.

*blank stare*

Also, from past experience I know that if I don't take off my pants, more incessant talking is sure to come.

So he gets back, pours the drinks, I get on the bed, kill my drink and tell him lets get it in.

We won't get into all the lovely details, but I will say being on the receiving end of head for two 45 minute-plus sessions is fantastic.

What is not fantastic is when the condom breaks. :(

After he gets up off me and goes to the bathroom I check myself and see that Pocahontas felt extra wet... so I knew what was up.

We ended up getting into an arguement that went like this:

Me: Did the condom break?

Him: Yeah. It ripped on the side.

This simple Simon mafucka comes back to me holding up the ripped condom.

Me: Shit! Go get me a rag and a towel. Quick! I don't want no fuckin' kids. This is all your fault. You know your dick is too big to be trying to use some Durex condoms.

Him: What?!

Me: Yes, you heard me. Did you get them joints for free or something? Don't you usually have Magnums? I know its a recession and all but damn. I ain't trying to catch no diseases or have nobody's kids.

Him: Me neither. It's not apart of my 3-year plan.

He gives me the rag and towel

Me (inspecting it): Is this clean?

Him: Why would I give you some dirty shit?

I didn't answer him that becuase niggas are trife like that sometimes, and also, I had to get to the important matter at hand: scrubbing Pochahontas with the antibacterial soap and warm water and then peeing.

(As I am typing this I am still pissed. I knew I should've kept my black ass home, I knew it!)

It's a good thing I'm going to Planned Parenthood for my checkup on Wednesday.

Anywho, I go back to his room, and we're in the bed having the whole "disease/pregnancy" convo in more detail. I won't go in. After that I decided that I should dig up old shit and ask him about the time he dissed me when we were kids, and that I still felt salty about it after all these years. He said he didn't think it was a big deal because I never actually told him I liked him, and he just thought we were like best friends, and that he was hearing rumours that I was messing w/ this other kid, in which I had to let him know that it wasn't until after he pulled that stunt. He still disagrees, and is shocked to know this was the reason I didn't talk to him for so many years.

Whatever.


[If I had 20 bucks for the times I've crossed that friendship line with my male friends... I'd be about $60 dollars richer (lol) because they always hit me with that "I didn't know you like me" bullshit. ]

Naw, nigga, I'm just fucking you/kissing on you (etc) because we're such close and good friends.

*Monie kicks all three boo-not-nots from her past in their hind parts*

Smh.

Anywho, I demanded that he apologize to me, and he did. Verbally and... otherwise. Hehehehehe

Needless to say, we ended up exhausted and falling asleep til about 5: 15am.

Waking up, I realized there is indeed a negative side to Daylights Savings time.

During the winter months, one is able to carry on trollopcy til about 6:30 am because it's still a bit dark. Not when Spring rolls around! You better be headed home in the four o' clock hour else you might be spotted. And if your house is set up how mine is, where your bedroom is next to your moms, it sucks.

Because my hair looked like the Rocky Horror Show.

And it just so happened that she was awake because someone tried to break into the house and the police came because the alarm went off. I'm not sure if she saw my shitastrophic hair while I sprinted to my bedroom, but she didnt say anything.

*shrug*

Anywho, because of the damn Durex breakage, I can't even revel on the greatness that was sexual relations that night because I am a hypochondriac. I should have listened to that voice of reasoning when I went to target and waltzed past the condoms.

There were a whole slew of Mags just there for the taking. But because he always used Magnums before (and we ALWAYS use condoms) I just assumed that he was brand loyal.

Apparently not. Now I'm the donkey in the spotlight hee-hawing. Ugh!

Dear God,
Please let me be STI free and not pregnant.

*Sigh*

Later Muffins! I'm going to get a nap in before I start my lil partime hustle.

xoxoxmonie!

i'd fuck 'im and other random shit

"i'm too live, nasty as i wanna be"- jay z

well dammit, me too Jigga.


i'd fuck:


Willie Day 26




Hose me down, Daddy! I watched that "I'm gon put it on her" video yesterday, and Willie looked gooder than a hot Toll House cookie with a side of milk and a napkin!!
Willie could get it butt nekkid on a sack cloth in a barn yard.
He makes you just wanna bathe in some Petite Nate and spread eagle!

(Yeah, my fellow 80s babies remember Petite Nate, the bath time groove, lls)

*this is Jean Nate. apparently Petite, Jean's baby cousin done got discontinued*


anywho...

additionally, i'd fuck (in no particular order):


nate parker pride, great debators




he got that big ass nose, but his teeth are gawgeous! And. He got a phatty. I saw it in Pride, and there it was again while I watched the Great Debators. He got one of those nice asses that sits on high, and don't drop too low. You see his joint, and wanna do a pelvic thrust; cause you imagine how good it would feel to hold it in the palms of your hand while he's on top of you.

kevin phillips also apart of the cast of Pride, Notorious

he looks like he could be related to willie. he got that thickness to him that i like. and it look like he packing something. tilt your head, and lean in close. Look at it! Look at that bulge!!


and on the old nigga side; also from the cast of Pride (yo, what's wrong with me!?),

terrence howard



Why? He just looks nasty; the cat-eyed mafucka. He's got that "I'm an asshole" thing going, which I'm very attracted to.
*shrug*
No wonder I'm in the state that I'm in.


So I guess it's a wonderful thing I was not in film production for the movie Pride--- else it woulda been a whole lotta fuckin' and suckin' going on. Bwahahaaaa!! Ahem!!


Moving along...


pimpin' IS easy


word to shaft, as the girl Lil Kim would say, Old Head called asking to be in my stable. not in these words of course, but he knows the deal.

i got a phone call from him this morning asking which number he was. I told him I hadn't placed him with a number because we don't mess, and he has a girlfriend.

he laughed about the fact she was downstairs as he was calling me (trifling), telling me that he's been thinking about what life would be like if he had made it official with me.

*yawn*

I told him he'd never know now. He tells me he wants a number, so I let him know everyone starts off at 5.

Presto! I got #5. when I make my way to DC in July I know I'll be on the receiving end of some HGR (head game ridiculous) from him. He's really great at it; like he's been practicing since birth. this is no big win, as he is an old ho (literally and figuratively).


We shall all celebrate when I reel in some fresh fish, ok?

and then...

i did some type-foul shit


i called up my ex for the trife ass stunt he pulled while in jamaica, and he's still on some pussy-ass nigga shit a month later; acting like he didn't hear me on the phone. this pissed me the fuck off. no lie, the anger i felt was trance-like.


so i text him the following:


u a coward. keep pretending you cant hear when i call. your job is gonna love to hear what i got to say and read what i got to write. it's your turn to be the fool.


i figured i'd fuck with his livlihood. am i going to call and make false complaints/email with harassment shit? maybe not. depends on whether i have time after all my school work and extracurricular shit is done.


naw, honestly, i don't think i will. despite everything, i try to live right. i try to do right, as i consider myself one of God's inperfect children. however, if you knew my history with him--- you'd tell me to go for it. i mean, i knew he'd give me some bullshit ass excuse, but i wanted to be able to refute it w/ lots of "muthafuckas", "bitch ass nigga's" and "you-aint-shits".....just to make me feel like we settled the score, knaamean? besides-- i'm too lazy (and broke) for the type of effort that would take.

Lord, please forgive me. I shouldn't have done it. Help me to stop seeking get-back and just leave his idiot behind alone. Amen.


that's all. i just wanted to express how i was feeling today. confess my sins, ya know? iwuvsyouguys!


besos ninos!
xoxomonie!

My name is Simone, and I am a Spinster Bitch..who ain't doing shit today!

i am burnt.
the. fuck.
out.

i'm frazzled!! i've been working non-stop off of minimal hours of sleep so that i can get all this shit done before heading to jamaica, but dammit.

a ho cain't take no mo', for the rest of the day...

I AIN'T DOING SHIT!

• I'm gonna do 90 minutes of Taebo (maybe)
• catch up on some more blogs (yesssssss!)
• order something italian and yummy (definitely)
• read a trashy hood novel (fo' sho) and
• watch Stringer Bell and Bodie (mmmmhmmmm :-)

on another note: thank you Rio Tapatio for your blog award. It sooooo made my heart smile:-) i'm always a bit shocked to know that folks are entertained by insanity, lol. i enjoy your blog as well. it makes me wish i were more artsy. fab. and kewwwwl... just like you.

thanks again!

Spinster Bitch: My Worst Fear- A Short Story

I am terribly, disgustingly completely lonely.

Yeah, I said it. No shame in my game anymore.

It has been approximately 5 years since I've had a real relationship. And actually; he was so wack and dry... I don't even consider him.

Of course I've had my fuck buddies, the ones that have used me up and whored me out, lol. and those who claimed to be my man but really weren't--after, in between, once, during...hey, i believe in insurance dick.

Anywho, the point is I'm 26 (shit, round that off to 30 if you'd like) and I have yet to have a serious relationship. EVER.

I think it would be good to have one.
Especially since everyone's getting paired off and having kids. Because that leaves me with no club partners, no drinking buddies, basically no social life. I don't do the third wheel bullshit and my friends' boyfriends have wierdos/psychos/ugmos for friends.

(I don't know what I'm gonna do when I move to DC)

I refuse to have an ugly man. Tried it. Hated it!

Not a good look for me or my forehead. He was so homely I had my eyes squeezed shut the entire time (which felt like forever) to the point I had a headache and a slight crease in my forehead. Ain't that much Oil of Olay and Visine in the world! So even though he was a sweetheart, and would have given me his whole homely little world...
I couldn't do it. So I deaded that.

But...

Am I gonna be that old bitch in the club? Like Kerri Washington in I Think I Love My Wife (sans the overbite, of course)?

I have a sneaking suspicion that's going to be me. And it scares the shit out of me, I can't even lie. I feel like I'm gonna end up just like that. Being fabulous, but opting to marry someone boring and safe, who stimulates absolutely no part of me. Just so that I don't have to live alone in my old age with Life Alert.

Or God forbid, trying to homewreck some married man's relationship!?

Dear God, please don't allow this to happen.

I think about this almost everyday (even when I'm not menstrual) and it makes me terribly sad :-(

I can't front.

I'm one heck of a gal, and it sucks that no one may ever get to know it. *sigh*

My therapist and I agree that I'm extremely picky, and she says that's ok.

I agree with her.

Sheeeeeit, I've been through too much shit to allow some basketcase bastard to come into my life and fuck shit up. Even though a bitch has "coping skills"... I don't feel like using them all the time. LOL Seriously though; I've been through enough. Besides, somebody's gotta be the level-headed one in the relationship!

We think (lol @ "we" ; like she and i are a couple-- hell at this point, we might as well be) that I should consider online dating when I get my driving skills back in order.

(I have a panic disorder, so my driving is very limited)

There's no public transportation here after 6, and I don't trust nan nigga to take me home after I was date raped while I was living in MD.

So get this lameness-- I practice driving to and from Applebees in my town. When I get to the point where I can master driving without feeling afraid or having to drive with someone, then I can join match.com and date.

It makes me laugh to even think that this is what it has all come down to.

And I laugh so that I won't cry that this is what it has come down to.

I'm actually getting sleepy now. I haven't slept since yesterday 8 am.

Probably why I'm putting myself all on blast like this. Oh well.

*shrugs*

later gators :)

wish me luck in cheering up later. thx!

monie xo

Pigeon Juice: The Shit You Just DON'T Drank!

For Bella (the source of my inspiration this evening) and Pop Pop (who always hips me to the illest dranks)

So let's get down to the getting downs:

So Monie.. .what is pigeon juice, you ask?

Let's have a definition, shall we?

Pigeon Juice (noun): chickenhead libations; oft times consumed in the clubhouse as a choice drink courtesy of male tricks. Similar to hood nigga pot likkah-- see definition
(well, not really. i'll give it to you another day,lol)

So...

A few weeks ago, my sissy and I were chit chatting--reminiscing about a friend of hers who was offered drinks for herself and the two of us in the club.

This trollop oredered nasty ass Hypnotiq. I remember being very upset about it, and trying to pawn it off to a stranger. Of course no one wanted it, so I just put it on a chair and kept it pushing.

*Get out your walking stick, Monie's bout to do a Kirk Franklin-esque stomp all up on somebody's corn toes*

Hypnotiq is really not what's up in the new year. It was alright when it first hit the market, but since then all the hood allstars have picked up on it, thus decreasing its value. For some reason when I'm doing clubhouse examinations, I always see the chickenheads gulping it down or Shawnquavious and his homeboys holding up the bottle in VIP, courtesy of the child support money he "forgot" to pay. (Gigantic F.U. to all the deadbeat dads-- you'll never prosper!)

So uh, yeah, like I was saying, Hypnotiq is a no-no.

Nuvo

what in the piss water sublime???!!!

oooh!!! this joint is atrocious. I decided to try it some time last year since my friend-in-my-head Wendy Williams kept hyping it up.

Fuckingggg. Nasteee.

I'm glad I only bought the small bottle. Never one to waste anything, I emptied that bitch out and put nail polish remover in it.

Now I have a cute little nail polish remover bottle. Nuvo is also uncouth-- as Pop Pop points out, it has a twist cap

Very remiscent of Olde E.

This is not classy at all. I know T. Pain got you all fooled, endorsing the hot shit out of it in the Blame it on the Alcohol video.

But look at him:

Ask yourself a question:

Would you really wanna drink something that he drinks??

Snap ya fingas/ do ya step/ you can do it all by yo selffff

sha na na na na e.coli. ...Let me press forward..

Alize

Somebody ought to elbow- buss you in your mouth piece if you're still drinking Alize. Alize is the ultimate pigeon drank!!

**Make note of how you've seen every color that Alize comes in, in some chickenhead's weave. **

Conspiracy theory!!

If this is still your practice, cease and desist, dammit!!
Plus its outdated. Besides... your mom probably drank it back in her day along with that Asti Spumanti and Bartles & Jaymes. Let's upgrade, folks.

Canei

...and if you're still drinking this shitastrophe, someone ought to grab it from you, and smash you in the head.

This is murder 1 in a bottle.

A twist cap bottle.

Canei is so low-class that they give it to you to drink STRAIGHT FROM THE BOTTLE at the club!!

The pigeons used to be hoo-hoo-ing at this one too. I haven't seen anyone drink this since 2002, thank God, but I'm sure someone's still guzzlin' it.

So Monie, what should we be drinking in the 2009?

Hell if I know, lol :)

However I can hip you to the shit that I drink. I am a biased drinker. Make note of how I mainly drink tequila.

Don Julio Blanco

This is my absolute shit. It's better than Patron, and tad less expensive, even though the quality is better. It's skrong, yet smooth. All you need is a little.

Usually after 2 sips my coochie is bumpin like the Kanye baseline from Love Lockdown.

Dumdumdum-dum

Dumdumdum-dum

...til we lose controllll system overload screamin no no
non-nooooo

(Look how Kanye's sitting down in that corner, looking all drunk-like. Probably had that Don!)

*Note- If you're trying to remain celibate like me, do not drink it in the company of men.

Your clothes. will. fall. off.

Other than that, I drink the various Patrons (reposado, anejo) ; but nothing tops the Don. And! You can mix it with damn near anything. One time I mixed it with orange juice... ooh! slap me now, slap me later! Delicioso!!

Now, if the clubhouse doesn't have my shit in stock (which they usually don't); I'll opt for the voddy (Grey Goose). If the men inside are too ugly to look at, I'll run for the Hennessy. If Hennessy is not in the building

(yeah, I know, how does that happen, but it has) , I'll fuck with Remy.

I never drink rail liquor. DC has taught me it is death for free.

I'd rather transfer the $7 in my savings account to the $8 in my checking to buy top shelf.

Because the bad shit is bound to give you bad experiences:

Dranks I will never fuck with again:

Absolut - no lie, one time I was drunk on Absolute, and did the ultimate crackhead shit. picture it:

5:something in the AM i got out of the bed and had this incredible urge to dance. So I dropped it down low, and brought it back.
And got right back in the bed. After that; never no mo'.

E&J- Gentle Jesus meek and mild, look upon a little child!!! Never again. Absolutely terrible!! (E&J actually should have made it to the pigeon juice list)

Andre Champagne - $5 champagne can never be a good look. Not never.

Jose Cuervo- bottled shit water. I won't touch it. I will not touch it.

anything by Seagrams- Seagrams will make you not want to drink for years. We used to use it for drinking games back in one of my undergrads (yup.. I went to 3 of 'em..shutup) and you wake up feeling like you need an exorcism. It's bad business.

Svedka- nasty. quite. nasty.

Friis- harsh. Do not drink this unless you're in Miami during memorial day weekend. You will be fugggged uppppp for days on end. The good thing about Friis is you don't wake up with a hang.

Gosh... I could be here all night,but I'm tired.

Later muffins!

monie*

Statutory Rape-- I'mma get real personal

my little cousin (the one who runs away and wears the same dirty panties)..go'n and click that there... she's up to her old tricks.

She ran away like 2 weeks ago, and then again last friday. and i understand why no amount of ass whooping, screaming, shouting etc thrown at her by her mom and the rest of the family isn't working.

Because the dude she's running off with is older than her. How much older, I'm not sure, but he's definitely over 18. When she was over here she was bragging that he had money, and when I asked her how he got money she told me he worked in a bank with his mother.

I asked her how old he was and she said he's 17.

I told her to try again. We all know can't no 17 work in a bank!

She's only 15. She swears she's in love, but she's being taken advantage of. I know the story all too well. That was me when i was in 12th grade. and the dude who i was with was 25.

i want to share the following story because i know there are a few teens that follow this blog, and i would hate for them to get mixed up in the same type of shit.

Grab your cocoa mug-- it's storytime.

Statutory Rape Will Fuck Up Your Mental For A Long Time

The person who was taking advantage of me was my best friend's older brother. Let's call her L, and let's call him R. Kelly Light. He was 8 years my senior.

I had the notion that a lot of young girls have : oh, he's older, he's not gonna play me; he can see that I'm mature, bla bla bla.

But he did.

I didn't really pay him much mind until he started paying attention to me. Sure, I thought he was cute, but my friend had 3 other brothers of which I thought were cute too, so that was no big thing. But he was persistant in his flirting, and he'd always say things to me like If you were older, I would date you.

I used to think it was cute, but now that I'm older, I realize it was inapropriate and trife. L and I hung tight from the time I was 14, so his nasty ass was probably looking at me from then. Euw.
(I may have to throw up after I finish typing this. I'm thoroughly disgusted right now)

So... he'd always flirt with me, and I'd flirt back too. I remember one day we were playfighting and he kissed me all up in my mouth, and my life went downhill from there. (For a time, of course.. glory be to God, I got back up on the mountain).

Probably a few months later (I know it was in May) we ended of having sex (euwwwwww) when I went to borrow L's wordprocessor (damn, you know that's back in the day-- do they even make those anymore?) It lasted all of like 3 minutes because anyone could have come home at any minute. For the longest, no one knew what was going on,not even L.

A short time after that he got a new car (I forget what happened to his old one, but I remember one time he had to glue his bumper back on with crazy glue) and he would "pretend to take me home" if I was over there, and have sex with me in his car, almost anywhere. This parking lot, that one, side of the highway, this dark street around the hood, wherever. This dude never took me anywhere and very rarely did we go to motels. To make matters worse, we were sexing unprotected. At first I would keep saying that we needed to be using them, but eventually I just went along with him, got on the pill, and continued. I should have known then that he didn't really think much of me. I'm just glad I stepped away from that whole madness disease-free.

And of course he'd tell me little stuff to get inside my head; about how much he'd miss me when I went off to college (I chose to go to Howard U), and that he cared about me... you know, bullshit. And you couldn't tell me I wasn't in love! As fucked up as it was, I really felt like he was my friend. I would talk to him about everything and anything. (I've always been a sucker for people who allow me to express myself around them)

Before I went off to school, L figured something was up, and she told me she didn't want me messing with him. I shrugged that off as her not wanting her best friend involved with her brother, but I thought that eventually she'd stop caring. Not so.

Anywho.. of course to my little 17 year old surprise, I was shocked when I went off to college in August, and never heard from him. Not a phone call, not a letter written back to me, nothing. I was way past hurt, and I felt very abandoned. When you're going through a transition phase in life, these are two emotions you do not want to feel.To this day if I feel one of the two , life is not quite right. In fact, I feel rather fucked up.


And this is when the panic attacks started. And if you know about them joints.. they suck ASS with six straws. I had no idea what was happening to me, and I thought I was just plain going crazy. I was so stressed I'd stay up all night doing strange things like sketching clothes because it relaxed me. Which was crazy because I didn't even know how to draw... but I learned, dammit!

I ended up going home one weekend because my cousin died, and I saw him. He was acting like everything was ok. Getting inside my head, manipulating me as usual. And then I found out he was up to no damn good. He was messing with this chick that lived around the corner for me (oddly enought, she was legal ), him and his ex girl had a kid that he didn't even tell anyone about, not even his family. Everyone just found out at the same time. So you know I was distraught.

I went back to school, and I couldn't concentrate on anything. I was always sad, and still having the occasional panic attacks, just thinking I was going crazy. So I withdrew from school and transferred to a school back home in NY. How I got into any school, especially one as good as Adelphi, was beyond me because my grades were SHIT. 1 B, 2 Cs and a D. I guess money can get you anywhere, huh? :)

And I didn't move back because I wanted to be with him. I just wanted to be somewhere familiar like my home, because even though my parents relationship was way past fucked up, I knew they loved me. And I just wanted to feel loved. Cause, it bees that way sometimes, y'know? But lo and behold a few months after I settled into school, who's paging me (LOL, I had a pager, ya'll! I'm officially old). Trifflin ass R.Kelly Lite. At first it was just a phone call here and there, and then before I knew it, we were back to our old antics. By this time I had my own car, and he'd crashed his again somehow, so he'd page me, I'd pick him up, and we'd still be doing what we did... in the car. Euw. By this time, his whole family knew what was up, and L was getting mad. The only person in my family who even knows that this happened to me is my sister, and I didn't even tell her. She found out, and I couldn't even bring myself to admit it to her for the longest because I was ashamed.

L eventually gave me an ultimatum and told me I had to choose between her and her brother.

I chose my friend. And I never looked back .


I say alllllladat to say this-- to my young girls-- these grown ass men do not have your best interest in heart. They don't give a fuck about you. They just want to use you up, and will not hesitate to toss you to the side for the next pretty young thing or better yet, a chick their age, comes along.

Your whole mentality towards men and more importantly, yourself will become misconstrued.

For a long time after this I used to equate sex with someone liking me. I still feel some sort of awkwardness when I'm around men. I don't really open up like I should and tell them how I feel. And I find that when I do, which is usually when its too late, it ends up all bad. For me, anyway. They just be movin' on with life and shit, lol :)

So to my young gals, that old ass dude you think is feeling you-- he really isn't. He's just a pervert, and no one his age probably wants him cause he's a loser. Walk in the other direction. Deal with someone your own age. I know they ain't shit.. but they're manageable shits. Don't get in way over your head.

I'm all soft and pink again. I may even cry tonight.. but like Ledisi sang-- It's alright!

xoxomonie!;)