Saturday, February 25, 2012

My Grandmother: The Woman That Raised Me (Part One)

If I seem a bite old fashioned you can thank my grandmother for that. She raised me and looking at those in my age group I am damn glad she did. She is the solid guardian that neither my abusive father (one of these days I will devote a blog to my father) or indifferent mother could be.

My gandmother is an amazing woman. She is the dearest person in the world to me. She has been more of a mother to me than my own mother and if you do not know how I feel about my mother dig through the archives of this blog. Find the blog I think I hate my mother. One of these days I will write part two of that blog.

My grandmother is 84 years old. She currently lives in a nursing home where she is slowly losing her memory. I do not think there are words that can describe the pain and hurt I feel over this issue. Though she does recognize and remember me I know a day will come when she will not do any of the above. It keeps me up at night and brings me to tears in the day.

I was the first to notice something was not quite right. I lived with my grandmother in late 2009 and early 2010. She lived in a very small rural town right outside my hometown in middle Georgia. In the time I lived with my grandmother she would drive me up the wall. I guess she expected me to stay home with her and watch soap operas all day like I did throughout my whole childhood. I could not do it. At this point I was a city slicker and I craved the hustle of the city. So I was gone more often than I was home. Grandma did not like this so she and I knocked heads.

During this time I began noticing some strange things about grandma. For example I was once awaken from my sleep by her screaming. When I ran to her room grandma was laying sideways in the bed with her legs hanging over the edge of the bed. When I asked what was wrong she said she could not move. I attepted to help her up but I could not do it. So instead I helped her back into the bed. The next day my aunt told me that grandma said her dead brothers and sisters told her to scream louder so I could hear her. To say I was rattled by the whole thing would be putting it lightly.

There were times when grandma asked me to do something only to forget that she asked me to do it later. I told my dad something was wrong but no one really paid me any attention. Then one day my youngest aunt showed up at my grandma's house. This bitch never shows up until she wants something. I was naturally suspious of her because of her terrible relationship with grandma. This is the daughter grandma gave the world to only to have her spit on her.

Well anyway this bitch shows up in the middle of the night supposedly to take care of grandma. Months later I would learn the true intention of her visit.

A few mothers later I moved out of my grandma's house and into my mother's house to begin my Master's program. I did not want to leave my grandma but I had no choice. In her rural community I could not get internet service for my computer and I needed it for school. I did not know then that it would be the last time I would spend the night/live with my grandmother.

To be continued....

My Gaydar Does Not Work

I have never hit on a woman. I have always been the one getting hit on. Perhaps this is the root cause of my frustration as a single woman. I am quite shy and I have a very hard time approaching people. I am not quite sure how to get over this issue.

I have huge crush on the property manager of my apartment complex. I think she is pretty and she is so friendly. Because my gaydar does not work I do not know if she is gay or not. I do not see a ring on her finger so I know she is not married. I am wondering if I should send her some flowers or something. I cannot just hit on the woman. I don't know what to do.

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Success Means Nothing Without Someone To Share It With

I know the title of this article might seem cliche but it is true. Success means nothing if you don't have someone in your life to share it with. Right now I am laying in my brand new bed in my new apartment alone. I am typing this blog on my Kindle.

As much as I talk about money on this blog I am not actually least not on paper (I own a few stocks). I do not have much to complain about right now but I am lonely as hell. It would be nice to have someone next to me in this brand new bed. It would benice to have someone to cook for me, discuss current affairs with (one of my hobbies) and dream about a future together. I think this is the piece of the puzzle missing from my life. It is also the hardest piece to find.

Sometimes I truly wonder why the hell straight black people do not want to get married. Then I think to myself these folks do want to get married but no one wants to marry them. 

How did I come to that conclusion? 

My belief is that straight black people, like many of their black lesbian counterparts, shoot themselves in the foot early on by having kids out of wedlock, getting fat as hell,  not seeking any type of higher education to better themselves and just being unattractive as hell for anyone considering the possibility of marriage. 

No one wants a spouse already coming to the table with baggage and this describes most black men and women over the age of 25.

Those of us who do not fit into any of these stereoypes find ourselves assed out because this group of peple is the majority of young black folks walking around today. It i the sad truth. Poor parenting from the generation before us has fucked my generation up beyond repair. 

It is depressing as hell. I have to accept the fact that I probably won't find my ideal black lesbian. My ideal black lesbian being someone who is not fat a hell, feminine, doesn't have any children, rocks her own hair, is educated and has some goals in life. This type of black woman is rare even amongst straight black women. She is damn near non existent amongst black lesbians.

I am going to find myself a non-black woman and just try to be happy.

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Am I Still Considered A Virgin?

I have been stratching my head about this one for a few years now. I don't consider myself a virgin. I have had sex with two women. However that is where the buck stops. I have never felt a penis (real or fake).

So does this technically make me a virgin? The first time I slept with a woman I was 18. This is what I consider the lost of my virginity.

For me sex is any type of sexual relations. Therefore I don't consider myself a virgin.

What do you think?

Sunday, February 12, 2012

This Shit Hurts My Heart: Whitney Houston

By now I am sure you've heard Whitney Houston passed away. When I read the news last night on the Internet I broke down crying. I think this one hit me harder than Michael Jackson's death. I don't think any of us saw this one coming. I am so sad right now. I loved Whitney. She did for black girls what I suspect someone like Michael Jordan did for black boys. She made us all proud to be black and female.

For years Whitney was the ONE with the voice. While Madonna and them were shaking their half naked asses to compensate for lack of actual talent Whitney was using her gift (her voice)to advance her career.

I loved her. She was the one and only black female celebrity that I had a crush on as a young child. I used to watch The Bodyguard over and over again. I thought she was the most amazing woman ever. I was in love with her. Even at age seven I knew I was in love with her.

Whitney, like many black women with money and success, made one major mistake: she took up with a black man.

I have said it before and I will say it women who have something going for themselves need to avoid black men like the plague. They only bring pain and suffering to the lives of black women. They corrupt just about everything they touch. I honestly believe black men are cursed and as long as black women insist on staying attached to them they will be cursed right along with them.

Whitney was a lovely girl who could have had her pick of men but she chose a shipwreck. I hold her responsible for that irresponsible choice but Bobby Brown is a straight up nigga. He got her hook on drugs. We know this because she was normal and healthy before she got involved with his ass. Now the media is reporting that he is having crying fits. Burn in hell nigga and fuck you!

While this may not be appropriate it should serve as a teachable moment for every black woman with something going for herself. Do not settle for less. Do not let members of your family or friends try to bully you into "keeping it black." Find yourself a man who is not on the bullshit and is about his business. Leave dumbass good for nothing black men the hell alone. Don't not date them. Do not marry them. And most importantly of all do not procreate with them. Despite the lies these niggas spout black women are beautiful and wanted. Get your passport and stop tying yourselves down to a group of shipwrecks. Most of your problems come from dealing with black men. Throw them under the bus and keep it moving.

R.I.P Whitney Houston. This fan will always love you (pun intended).

Saturday, February 11, 2012

Valentine's Day: A Day I Hate!

I don't have anything good to say about Valentine's day. As far as I'm concerned it's a day set aside to remind all us single and miserable people that we are in fact single and miserable. I think I can count the number of "good" Valentine's days I've had since first grade on one hand. Valentine's day and me just don't mix. I will be spending my Valentine's day in front of my Dana (I'm off that day) writing what I hope will be the book that gets me the hell out of poverty and establishes me as a successful author. Pray for me!

Sunday, February 5, 2012

I'm In A New Apartment Now I Need A New Job

I moved into my brand new gated apartment in Cobb County last week. I caught straight hell for a week with the apartment (nothing I care to detail). Now I'm looking for a new job. If anyone knows of any full-time jobs in the area email me ASAP.

Hell Yeah! It's About Time!

Question: Did they do it??? I sure hope so!
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