Sunday, January 01, 2006

100th Post Party: 2005; A Year In Review

(Hi Moni, just want you to know I never actually made it to my bed this morning. I was laid out on the couch, my phone charging in one hand, and empty Heineken bottle in the other. Also want you to know that you outta feel mighty special girl! I don't tell anyone about the year I had! Except maybe Batman but he doesn't really count does he? He's like my second skin.)

All things considered, 2005 had to be literally th worst year I have ever had. I went through more BS this year than any other. The only year worse than this had to have been '04. Now I promised this would be a regular old me post and I am going to try my damndest to make it so. So technically, this is a post especially for you Moni, so I can explain exactly what it is we were talking about last night. I'm just going to pick up where we left off.

By the time 2005 began, I had broken up with (Let's call him the Jackass) and had begun my lesbian experience. I should have figured things were wrong with this character when he told me he was an ex-con. C'est la vie, I figured. He did his crime and his time and its over. Well, apparently not. An old friend of mine whom I always thought of as very wise (and who has long since passed on) once told me that a man who has gone to prison has seen things. All kinds of things. Things that will change them forever. So when they get out, they will never be the same again. Translation: He must have been a good guy when he went in because he was a lying rabid dog when he came out.
The charade this cat kept up for the duration of our short lived relationship was amazing. I learned quite a few things from him. Things like: you don't date ex-cons, you don't date ex-con's and more importantly, you don't date ex-cons. And then there was, you don't EVER EVER EVER show up at a man's house unexpectedly because you are never sure what you are going to find.
I am a firm believer in honesty. I want to lay all the cards out from the jump. If you're dying in six months, please tell me so I don't get attached. Common freakin courtesy. Here's the scenario:
Anyone who knows me knows I love hard. (In this case love is used in the example setting. I didn't love this cat, I liked him alot.) But they will tell you I take care of my man. My favorite quote is you're gonna miss me when I'm gone. And they always do. I like to keep my guy happy, you feel me? Well this particular guy was no different.
Now I remembered him saying he had to go food shopping the following day so me, being the girlfirned that I am (RubbabandMan, Atari330, DymeADozen, thatbxnigga, let me know if I'm wrong for this one) I decided to make him a little food and bring it over to tide him til he went. I find nothing wrong with this. I figured a surprise visit would make him feel a lil better.
When I get there, I am greeted at the front door. A little different than they usual Hey! Come on in! that I was used to. Here's our short conversation, in light paraphrase:
Rabid Dog: Um, I have company.
Me: Oh okay. I'll wait out here. (I figured one of his boys was over and he wasn't decent. You know, its rude to barge in on folks when they're not dressed. And you all know I'm a little slow.)
RD: I mean, I had a friend over.
Me: (Ex-squeeze me? A baking powder? Now it dawns.) What?
Then I see her over the top of his head, gathering her things to leave. Paralyzed to the spot, I watch her walk out. She gives me the look like, girl I am so sorry. And I giver her one back like girl he is so gonna be. No, I am not the type to go after the female. Ten to one, neither of us were aware of each other. Even so, I don't give a rat's ass what she knows or doesn't know. I'm going for blood. Literally.
This was back when I was smoking, not to mention I had a lit cigarette in my hand at the time. I flicked that at him and while he was slapping it out on his skin, lit that Zippo and tried to burn that bitch. Oh yes I did. I have only been that angry a handful of times in my life. You know, when you're seeing red and your skin is hot and you're shaking? That kind of mad.
We happened to be passing the kitchen during this scrap. I'm sure you all remember the Al Grits story? Yes well I tried to repeat it, only without the grits. My life long regret is that I missed. I am so mad at myself. I can throw a football, sink a three pointer and hit a baseball far enough to pass and I FREAKIN missed? What kind of foolishness? Made it to the back room of the apartment where I proceeded to stomp the shit out of him with everything I had in me. Which at the time was a lot.
Needless to say, we broke up.
Many of you missed the other posts where I mentioned why I call this my lesbian experience. Here's why: only a bitch acts the way and does the things the Rabid Dog did, so as far as I'm concerned, he was one. So that made me a lesbian, therefore my lesbian experience.
Shortly afterward I met a guy. Whew boy. I'm going to have to come back and finish this post because this is going to get waaaay loooong. (I have to be out of here in a few minutes, I'm getting breakfast :) Let me give you this little tidbit: he was a weed/cigarette smokin, three baby mama havin ex-con Muslim. Yes, you heard it right. And oh yes, its going to be good.


Post a Comment

<< Home

MusixZone Harlem: Diary of a Summer
Listen to this album
Listen : Jim Jones , Harlem: Diary of a Summer
Free Guestmap from Free Guestmap from

Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take and may this song play all the way, through. And if it skip a beat, hit repeat, this the realest shit I ever wrote, this is me. If it skip a beat, hit repeat, This the realest shit I ever wrote, this is me. -Juelz Sanatana, This Is Me, What The Game's Been Missing