My Last Post

This will be a my last post for this blog, ever. Yes, I will be turning it into a book because so many people love and cherish the stories or little pieces of wisdom I typed  from the bottom of my heart. I wrote this blog because so many people who did not understand me, made up their own little stories about me. No I am not proud of the some of the things I did, but I do not regret the decisions I made because I went from negative to positive.
   I focus mainly on the ladies in my blog because, everyday a lady that I know call me or message me, or better yet talks to me face to face about hurtful things that she is going through. It does not have to necessarily be about men, love, marriage, sex, or dating. It is about stress from school, finances, or she just needs a good laugh and some sound advice from having a tough week. This year has been a tough year for a lot of people. I have been through hell this year, but I know it was  all for a purpose.
   I have learned a lot of lessons from the things that I have gone through and not only from personal experience but from wisdom from older people. A lot of older people that I talk to tell me that I am lucky I am going through this at this age then to be going through it when I am older. Regardless of age, sex, or race every single thing happens for a reason.
   We all need prayer, I don't care what anyone says or try to dress their lives up. We all need prayers in our life to get through in this harsh world we live in. So if you have a prayer request do not hesitate to email me at LadyOfTheHour@tmo.blackberry.net

Leaving it all Behind...

As the new year approaches I have decided to leave old beefs, relationship hang ups, broken hearts, ex best friends, and anger behind. I don't do New Year's Resolutions because I never keep up with them, so I know I am for real when I say I have to start fresh and anew on a positive note. I decided to write five people who have affected my life. Whether in a good way or a bad way, and they cross my mind several times a day. I want these people to know how I feel about them, how they affected me, and that I do not want them to respond to my letters. All but one letter will be sent via email, because I express myself very strongly on paper and I want this person to know how I truly feel and how strong they have effected me. When you are angry with a person, I mean really truly angry and you have yet to tell this person how you feel, this anger can build up like a volcano.
  Writing is the best source of expressing your feelings of anger because you can write whatever you want to write about and not have to worry about anyone hearing you, anyone judging you or anyone repeating what you have to say. If the person is still alive, you can send them the letter with no  return address attached so that this person that has made you angry can know how you feel, without you worrying about this person writing you back or trying to find you.
  If this person is deceased, write the letter anyway and bury it in your garden, your backyard, or burn it. Because when that letter burns, or when you bury that letter  your anger is gone with it and you can move on. I have been so angry at different people and I let it run my life, for a long time. Because I could not reach out to these people, I became consumed with anger, taking it out on the wrong people. I decided that I will not take this anger for this particular person into not just the New Year, but it stops for the rest of my life.
  

Raising Baby Girls

One of the followers of my blog tweeted a statement on twitter, that made me respect her so much more. "I tell my daughter all the time that she is beautiful and does not need make-up, although she still wants to wear it." If that isn't an example of what a parent should be doing as part of raising a daughter I don't know what is. Telling your daughter she is beautiful, praising her for each accomplishment and just showing her lots of love at home does take part in preventing her from trying to find love elsewhere. Telling your daughter she does not need to wear tight clothing, gobs of makeup or spike heels as a teen to gain attention from the opposite sex is part of raising a baby girl into a confident young lady.
   I did not have that growing up in my mother's household, as a young teen or a middle school student. My mother let me know every day that I was ugly, stupid, and had no purpose here on earth. She let me know everyday that she hated the fact that I was born, and that she wished she never had me. And when I lived with my maternal grandmother in H.S she told me everyday that I would be a no good crack whore like my mother. I only felt good about myself because of what the boys told me at school, and I didn't start understanding  that I don't need a man to validate my self-worth until I had to learn a lot of lessons from mistakes I had made in my early teens and the beginning of my twenties.
  I used to ask myself, and try to understand why these circumstances happend to me, but I am very happy they did happen to me. Because when and if I do have a daughter of my own I can love on her, learn her and teach her the right way of life. And to let her know each and every day that she is beautiful and to know that she is beautiful so that she does not have to look for love, and compliments in the wrong places. Many young girls wear revealing clothing to gain attention that they are lacking at home. Which also explains why many young ladies are allowing boys to run trains on them in bathroom stalls, or at their friend's house. They want to feel loved and accepted by anything. I commend all of the single parents out here that are raising daughters on their own and they are growing into respectable young ladies. You deserve an award.

My Waiting to Exhale

I have been hearing the term "Waiting to  Exhale" every since the movie came out over thirteen years ago when I was eleven years old. This phrase is now used in sentences and households everywhere, describing how a woman knew that her husband was hers when she first met him. Describing how a wonderful first date ended, or a how a love so strong began. I never understood why they described this as "Exhaling". I mean right now I am single, but yet I am breathing, so therefore I didn't stop breathing because my heart got broken. I didn't stop breathing because I got rejected by a man I really cared about and loved. I didn't stop breathing because I was betrayed by a man I cared for who decided that he wanted someone else. I never stopped exhaling.
   I have never said "I am waiting to exhale", nor have I ever attended "Waiting to Exhale" parties. Where a group of women go out to a bar, a party, a club or some other social event to try to meet a man hoping to exhale. Exhale. So the only way you are going to breathe deep,and breathe slow  is if you have a man? The only way you feel secure enought to breathe is if you have a man?
  I breathe deep, slow, and long while I am single because I am alive, healthy, and blessed beyond. I don't need the opposite sex to breathe, to live, to be happy. Every woman needs a husband, do not get me wrong, but in the mean time if you are single to dwell on "exhaling". Don't search for that man so that you can "exhale" or "breathe again.

Confession (Why I Haven't Been Going To Church)

I stopped going to church because one person made me angry and frustrated with going to church. I know it is biased, no excuse, and I am supposed to go to church for me and the Lord only. However, I let the devil trick me into making myself think that I was just taking a little break from the church, and that as long as I paid my tithes I was fine. Wrong! I needed to be up in church every sunday, in somebody's bible study every week, and on somebody's prayer line every night. I needed to be on my knees every night praying thanking God, and working on forgiveness. In all actuality, I'm mad as all hell on earth at some situations that happend to me that was all out of my control. Instead of thanking God for getting me out of a bad situation, I questioned myself about why I was put in the situation in the first place. I feel anger towards people in church because someone from the church who wasn't as saved as pertained to be, or acting the part.
   I am angry because in my mind, I feel like I have been set back from where I was, I feel like a failure, and that I lost everything I worked hard for. I'm withdrawing from everyone, I'm suspicious of everybody who wants to get close to me, and I have a I don't care attitude that needs to stop right now.
   The Holy Spirit is beating me in the head, the guilt I feel  is consuming me and I feel horrible about a lot of things. I know God is telling me that He is not angry with me, He just wants me to leave the past alone and look forward. He wants me to get back in church ASAP because my spirit is weak, and I am walking around with a broken heart that He needs to heal. I need to start being honest with myself and talk to Him openly because I can't front on Him. He knows me better than I know myself, and He wants me to be more open to Him.
    The Holy Spirit has been telling me to read the entire Bible from front to back, so I can understand that He is a God of love, not anger, not hate, not vengeful. That He loves me through all of my flaws, my weaknesses, my prettiness, my ugliness, my sadness, my goofiness everything about me. He wants me to understand that I need to lean on Christ. Holy Spirit told me it is good I am paying tithes, but what about worship, giving thanks. Sometimes I eat without saying my grace, I feel lower than dirt for even doing that.
   I wanted to get this off my chest, so I could start healing, and continue my walk with Christ, because I was not being honest with myself or other people. Isn't it great that we have a God of second chances?

Older Men

In my wild days being in my late teens and early twenties I got a kick out of dating older men. When I say older, I don't mean men five or ten years older,I'm talking about men twenty years older or a little more. The guys my age were so immature, careless and couldn't even hold their pants up properly. Majority of them were living off of their mother's income so they could only take me out to dinner at Sonic. Maybe. My girlfriends and other chicks I had ran into spoke about their experiences with older men. How they paid for their tuition, exotic trips, shopping sprees, and luxery apartments only to realize these girls were just ur ordinary gold digger. But one person I became acquainted with told me a totally different reason why she liked dating them.
Miranda (name changed) was the same age as me, nineteen, at the time we met. She was a Political Science major and had to do her work study in the school library. She was assisting me with a powerpoint when her cellular phone went off. She glanced at it and smiled a sneaky,wicked smile. "Must have something nice planned" I commented. She gave me a sinister look, and said "yep. A night of nonstop pleasure girl. Even though he's almost fifty, he's better than anyone in our age group." I was in complete shock as she began to expose in broad detail their personal exploits, and at the fact that he was darn near 50 years old.
She asked me if I had ever been with a man that old, at the time I had not and told her this. But after what she told me, it piqued my interest. She told me if and when I did I wouldn't regret it. Me being young,dumb,and u know the rest I made it my business to date much older men. Yeah she was right, the physical and material portion of the relationship was good, but these old men were also possessive and stuck in their ways. It took me 3 months to shake one old guy off and another one forgot to tell me about his wife who had been in the hospital sick. So there's drama in every type of relationship,from what I learned. But I still don't understand the whole cougar syndrome.

The End of the Race.

I'm sick and tired of the whole race issue. White this, black that, asian do this, hispanics do that. It is disgusting me, like a festering sore that keeps spreading everyone is contributing to this race factor. And the sad thing is, black men are still blaming the "White Man" for his past transgressions.
I get tired of hearing political affiliates lashing at each other using nationalities and racial backgrounds. I get tired of hearing sexual types about white women. I'm tired of hearing negative remarks about black women. I'm tired of reading sadistic synopsis about hispanics.
A black person can't call a white person a racist for calling them a nigger, if that same black person go around calling white people "cracker and honkey". That black person is displaying racism as well. Same thing goes for calling an asian "chink" and an asian calling an hispanic "spic". It is all racism, and it is all hate, evil and disgusting.
Racial stereotypes are the worst. For example: "Black men have large penises". All black men do not have large penises. I know that for a fact. A lot of black women who has never been with a white man say that white men have small penises.
The race factor is out of control, period. And it is just not in America, racial conflict is out of control all over the world. We all need to change.

The Eye of The Beholder (My Battles With Being Physically Perfect)

I wanted to look like the women in the above picture, but better because everywhere I looked these modelesque beings were getting all the attention, popularity that I wanted. The slim waist, the plump,round, perfect behind and the the long exotic hair whether it was a weave or not. I looked in the mirror each day and found something that I needed to change. My nose too flat, my bottom lip poked out too far, I thought I had cellulite on the back of my thighs, My tummy wasnt flat enough, my breast too floppy. My hair too thick, my eyes too big, I have love handles the list went on and on and on. Every day I woke up in the morning and saw an uglier, fatter, horrendous chick.
 I started taking diet pills first to try to curb my appetite, but they didn't work, and it seemed as though they were making me more hungrier. I then started buying lean cuisines to take on my lunch break,which not only made me very hungry, but also very fatigued and dizzy from lack of a balanced meal. I couldn't join a gym because I had a hectic work schedule from working at a call center, and wouldn't have the time. I also had a midday shift that didn't give me time to walk around a track or block and due to lack of me having a car I didnt have a way to the gym, track anyway.
  I started saving up for plastic surgery, one body part at a time, starting with my nose that I couldn't stand. I hated the fact that when I smiled my nose spread and covered my whole face (I thought so). Sometimes I would pinch it throughout the day to make it more narrow and less wide, and of course that didn't work. I also started saving up for a tummy tuck. I always had that little pouch that would stick out just little from my blouses.
  One day I was researching and just googling different things (some of the weird things I do when I'm bored). I started researching different African Queens that existed before slavery, and the most beautiful, thick women popped up. There were women with noses bigger than mine, who adorned garments of beautiful fabric, gold, and crowns encrusted with precious jewels. They were not slim, but healthily stacked, curvy, and their lips were thick, plump, and colored bright red which curved into a sweet yet strong smile. I was astonished and shocked at the same time! These women looked like me, some only darker and some only lighter but some exactly. Eyes and all!

 I resembled a queen! Well that alone stopped me from saving up for cosmetic surgery to take these beautiful features away I was blessed with. Instead of popping diet pills, starving myself on Lean Cuisine diets and skipping meals, I started eating more fruits and vegetables. I read books on eating healthy satisfying meals and that helped a lot too. I also learned that if we all looked alike, this world would be very boring, and that no one loves us like we love ourselves.

So This Makes Me Less Black?

  I had a eyebrow ring when everybody thought only lesbians and famous rock stars wore them. I listen to NickelBack, Coldplay, Lady Gaga, and Madonna in addition to rap and hip-hop. I hang out in Barnes & Nobles, Boarders, and Starbucks, and are addicted to the cafe's many variety of frappucinos. I speak proper english, and use big words, and I speak proper. What I do not understand is why am I always being told I dont act black?

How does one act a particular color? How does one act a particular race or nationality? Why does race define a person's style of clothing, speaking, hobbies, or musical genre. When I was younger my mother always scolded me to "stop acting white" or "stop talking like a white girl". I didn't understand it then, just like I don't understand it now. Colors do not talk a certain way, just like there is no particular language for black and white. I'm an American, and African-American so I speak the english that I was taught the right way.

   I have lost friends because they thought I was stuck up, and that I thought I was better than them because according to them "I don't act black".  I have heard people say that "I think I am white" because I hang out with white people, I am a twilight fan, I shop in hot topic, and I listen to GooGoo Dolls. I have friends of every nationality, hell, if I met a purple person and he or she was good person, treated people with respect as well as themselves I would have a purple friend. Race has nothing to do with a person's style or demeanor.

My research on Everest College (A Total Rip Off)

A lot of people on and off social networking sites are always cracking jokes about Everest College. I thought it was because of the guy on the commercial screaming at couch potatoes to get off of their asses and do something with their lives, making it seem as if it was as easy as 123, to go to class and get an education and a gauranteed job in as little as six months. Not to mention the youtube covers comedians were doing to make fun of these commercials. But when two people I was aquainted with decided to become students of Everest, I decided to do a little research of my own.
  I called a admissions counselor at Everest College to get more information on how the degree program works, and what programs were available. I was told the programs they offered were Massage Therapy, Business Accounting, and  Medical Assistant. I picked Business Accounting and made an appointment to meet with them  later on that week. I wrote down a series of questions to ask the counselor, about the accreditation of the school, and how gauranteed it would be that I would have a job upon graduation.
  Well I learned a heck of a lot that day that I spoke with the counselor, and no, it was not satisfying information. The school was not accreditted, so you would be wasting your time sitting in a classroom learning for nothing. You might as well be a classroom auditor. The students do not earn degrees, certifications, or licenses at all. The only thing you get when you are finished is a diploma stating that you went to Everest College.
  You don't even have to be a high school graduate to become a student at Everest, which brought me  to the point of asking the counselor a very important question. If you have a student that does not have a high school education, how can you gaurantee them a job in the field of nursing, better yet, an accounting job where they will be handling money?
  Of course the counselor did not have an answer to that question, and quickly changed the subject to taking me on a tour of the college, which I must say, was not very impressive. Not only did they not have proper equipment for the nursing students, but they did not have proper text books as well. Textbooks were included when you paid for tuition. I skimmed through one of the accounting books and there were missing pages, as well as markings all through it that had nothing to do with accounting, or Everest period.
 When it came time to discuss the costs for attending this college, I was led to the Financial Aid office, where I was informed that it would be ten thousand dollars to attend. I was completely floored by this amount, and totally appalled. They then said that they had loans, and financial aid that I may be elgible for. I told them I would need sometime to think about this, and took the financial aid package home.
  These people are charging students ten thousand dollars, to attend a school who can not grant you a degree let alone proper equipment for hands on learning. It saddened me, that there are organizations take advantage of people who do want to get out there and get a career, but is afraid of the long road ahead. So rip offs like this make them think there is a easy way out. SMH.online-education-now.com

I Spy A Potential Guy

I am single (As if you guys didnt already know that) and so I decided to start trying to meet new people. Of the opposite sex of course. So I figured if I go out more, I could meet more people and also have more fun. I started going to places like museums by myself during the day, libraries, going to the movie theatres to see guy flicks, and studying at Barnes & Nobles. Needless to say I came up short. So I started trying to change certain things about myself to catch the eye of a that guy. lol.
 I decided to use a new lip color that I never tried on my full lips before. I normally uses glosses, or light colors but I decided to go bold and use a blood red with a hint of gloss that my friend Frankie suggested. I also decided to dress up when I go out, so I started wearing skirt and heels everywhere I went, including the hardware store. That didnt work. Not only did not catch the eye of a potential suitor, but I caught the eye of the wrong darn men. I literally had to threaten one old guy who wouldnt go away, and  some weirdo followed  me all through the mall.
 I figured if I go catch the matinee of a guy fllick like action movies, horror, dumb movies (Jack Ass 3d per example) maybe I could run into a guy there we could spark up a convo. Needless to say, a waste of time and money. One action flick I went to see only had three people in the theatre, and the movie was so boring I fell asleep. I went to see a horror flick and every guy there was hugged up with his chick, so not only was I lonely, the movie freaked me out so bad I couldn't sleep for a week. I was gonna try and see "Jack Ass 3d" but I could not bring myself to sit through that garbage.
 So yesterday I went in Barnes & Nobles to study and have a Green Tea Frap, and skim through a couple of novels as well as try to spy a potential guy. I spotted a couple of cuties, but they were pushing strollers with toddlers in it, so they were unavailable. Today, I went in there again and there were cuties galore. I mean of every race and nationality. I was browsing the Twilight Series collection and caught one eyeing me *blush*.
  But still nothing exciting, so I decided to put my pride to the side, and look at self-help books on dating, finding mr.right, how to introduce your self, et cetera et cetera et cetera. I even skimmed through Karrine Steffans "Vixen Manual: How to find and keep your man" when I suddenly remembered and realized that this woman has been married and divorced more than once. I quickly put back all of the dating self-help books back realizing, that these authors had a different opinion on how to approach the opposite sex. I decided that I will keep going to new places, minus the extremely sexy clothing.

Wifey (The Ringless Marriage)

Every woman wants to be  wife, no matter how much you say marriage is not for you, you are happy being single, or you are happy the way things are. But I am not talking to the single ladies, who are independent and is not in a relationship. I am talking to my ladies who is in a relationship with a man they have been with over two years, calling him "hubby", he is calling you his "wifey", you both are living together have kids together plus a dog and sharing a car. You talk yourself into thinking that everything is cool, and comfortable the way things are, I mean hey like your "hubby" say marriage is just a piece of paper right? You don't really need that diamond ring, or that contract called a marriage license to seal the deal.
 Wrong. Marriage is not just consumation, or a little piece of paper that says you are married. It is a agreement before God, and a commitment from him letting you know that he is willing to share the rest of his life with you and if he has morals only you. That his love goes far beyond the bedroom, he loves with every thing he has. Your "hubby" telling you that marriage is just a piece of paper, is just his way of saying that he is not ready to take that big step and he is comfortable the way things are. Because if and when it comes a time where he is ready to live "single" again he has no problem with packing his bags, leaving and telling you (if you have kids together) that he will come  and see his children every other weekend.
  It is not that every woman wants to be a wife, but every woman deserves to be a wife. They deserve the ring, and the license that seals the total package and the deal. You are acting the role as a  wife, yet you are not getting wife benefits. You understand what I am saying? And when you realize you are potraying characteristics of a wife, but you are not getting the benefits a wife deserve, you will then wake up and start feeling unappreciated.

  Wifey is just a term to describe a girlfriend a man has been with for a long amount of time that acts as a wife, but has no plan to seal the deal. So what do you consider yourself, a wifey or a wife?

Dear Mario (Open Letter to Mario Dewar Barrett )

Dear Mario,

I first want to say that I hope you are in good health, and a good peace of mind. I have read in blogs and news sections about the events that transpired between you and your mother. Of course the media is making it seem worser than what it really is, because that is what they get paid to do. But I am writing this letter to you, to let you know that you are not alone. I don't care what the fans have to say, I don't care what the media have to say, I understand what you are going through because I have went through the same thing. My mother has been on drugs for over half my life and I am twenty six years old. She recently got clean in late 2007. The only difference between me and you is the fact that my mother is now clean, and yours is not.
  I have contributed money towards my mother's rehabs, drug clinics, rehab shelters, bail money, etc. My mother has stolen not only money from me, but sentimental items that I cherished to my heart. She stole my puppy pitbull when I was fifteen years old and sold him for five dollars just to get a quick hit. My grandmother had took me and my siblings shopping and on Christmas Day my mother and her boyfriend picked up our gifts and left. Needless to say we didn't have Christmas that day, not the materialistic part rather. Through the years, I burned with anger towards my mother, because even after I was an adult and I continously tried to help her, she still betrayed me. Sins of the mother makes you wanna holler doesn't it?
   I was starting to hate her, I mean a deep penetrating hate all the way to the depths of my soul. So I had to cut off communication with her. When someone is sick and tired, I mean really sick and tired they will stop and get themselves together. I am not going to say that I am a fan of your music, you are very talented, but I really admired the fact that you have stood by your mother through every thing. I really admired the fact that you have started an organization for children of addicts, because these circumstances effect the child in a tremendous way even past adulthood.
  You and your mother are in my prayers, I am praying for you both, that she gets well and that you can overcome this and find it in your heart to forgive her. Do not pay attention to the media, twitter, or other social networks that like to bash celebrities as if they have walked a mile or two in your shoes. But this letter is coming from someone who has not exactly walked in your shoes, but lets just say we have walked the same mile.
 Much Peace, Blessings, and Love

Tanisha M. Monroe

Guns 'N' Roses

I didn't think a man could protect me, take care of me, or defend me unless he had a gun in his waist. I didnt think a man could understand my sorrows, anger, or fear of having a crack addicted mother unless he dealt drugs or been around drugs. I was so used to being strong for everyone else that I needed someone stronger than me, and that someone had to be a thug. I wanted the type of thug you only see in street fiction, that Wahida Clark and Nikki Turner only wrote about. The type that ruled the streets, kill a nigga for a nigga by any means type of thug, but only held a soft spot in his heart for me. Of course those are only in hood fairytales, they do not exist. These type of men are not gauranteed to make it back in one piece, are not gauranteed freedom, nor are they gauranteed to have a heart for you.
 I learned throughout my teens and early twenties that you have to be a cold hearted individual to sell drugs to a person. By the grace of God, some individuals hearts warm up and the ice melts away causing them to want to get out. Then you have the greedy ones, they block out the fact they are hurting people and embrace the money, cash, clothes. And that's where we come in, we love the fact of being spoiled with materials, great sex, and finally having a man to take care of us, financially, emotionally., and sexually. We forget about the risk of getting taken out if and when our man encounters an jealous enemy he wants off his turf.
  We forget about the fact that we put our freedom at risk from being an accessory to his crimes just by taking his money and going on endless shopping sprees.
 And then we have the forever faithful ride or die wifey, she will do anything by any means necessary to protect her man, and stay by his side no matter what the cost. She loves this man so much, she will risk twenty to life on transporting charges, by driving his bricks up and down the east coast on the ever so famous I-95 to bring the bread home to daddy. She will risk a life sentence to take down her love's archenemy and do anything he asks of her, including take the wrap for his mess, and do his cold hard time.
 Love is stronger than pride, but sometimes we have to fight love for pride. We know deep in our hearts when a man really truly cares for us and love us. But because we are so deep in love with him, we fight the red flags, the bad signs, and blind ourselves from the truth.

As Time Passes By

I decided to write a long letter to my biological father. He has been avoiding me for 3 months straight. My phone calls go to voicemail, my texts unanswered, my calls unreturned. I understand guilt succumbs him over the past. But that is just it. It is the past. I don't care about the past I want to start from now. I don't want to let another 20 or so years fly by and I don't hear from him. That would really shatter my heart.
I asked him in a message, why would he look for me in the first place and push me away. He had no answer. Well I'm tired of not having answers, I want answers and I want a daddy. A real daddy not some fake who smiles and claims me in public but can't even stand to look at me in private.
My heart will write this letter. And I'm writing it manually with ink, to show my sincerity.

One Day I saw a Black King

We were taught from the moment we were pushed out of our mother's womb that we are  not meant to be alone.  Us. Black Women. We were taught  to seek a black king, bear his children, set the foundation for his home and love him unconditionallly until death do us part. We were taught to hold down the fort when the going gets tough, comfort him during the bad times, embrace him during the good. We were taught to cherish him, obey him, and always have his back by any means necessary no matter if he is right or wrong.
  But what do we do when our kings are gay, in jail, dead, on the street corners slingings crack, heroin, pills, and marijuana. What do we do when our black kings look at us with disgust because we are not light enough, hair isn't straight enough, or our bodies are not similar to the thin waisted, big butt mixed looking chick on the video they saw on 106th & park at 6pm the previous night.
 What do we do when our black kings look at us and all he see  is a bitch, whore, slut, chicken, hood rat, freak. What do we do when our black kings only see us as a cum deposit, a baby making machine, a freak of the week, a hoe for that area code, or a whore he can use while he is in that part of town.
  Sometimes I wonder if there is a last breed left of true black kings for us queens with just an ounce of pride, dignity, self respect, love, and a warm beating heart. A last breed that is not shallow, and would love a sister with natural kinky hair, cocoa dark skin, thick curves all around, and wouldn't mind "waiting".
 They say 42% of black women are single, and they try to pin the blame on us. Michael Baisden tried it, Steve Harvey tried it. But every black men need to stand in front of the mirror for at least five minutes and ask himself, is he really doing his very best in Respect? Love for his lady? Love for his mother? Love for his fellow brother? Kings it's time you start respecting each other, love on one another, as if he is your brother. We need a change. Like yesterday.

 

Admitting My Bitterness

I was talking to a friend the other day, who has been in a relationship for about two months, she told me he was like a breath of fresh air, as if she was walking through smog up until they met. She had asked me if I understood what she meant, and I thought about it. Unfortunately I couldn't tell her I understood, because I totally forgot how that felt. I totally forgot what it was like to be in love with another human being. My friend's face was glowing from the inside out, as if someone lit an ambience candle beneath her skin. When she smiled it wasn't just showing teeth but a happy, sighing smile, as if she would die happy at that very moment and not regret a thing, not even a  bucket list. Of course the way she described him, it sounded as if he was made just for her, fallen out of the sky and landed right in front of her. And I believed her. I believed that this man was for her, and I had faith that they would be together for a long time.
  I have been single since March of 2007, I have dated, I have sexual tryst and threw him out the next morning. I have had flings, but I haven't had a total, relationship in three whole years. I havent been in love since 2006, I fell out of love in 2007. That relationship was a total wreck. A total wreck. I looked in the mirror and told myself to stop lying to myself. I didn't want just a friend to spend time with just to share hobbies. I wanted a good, faithful, God fearing man in my life as well as a potential husband, but is too bitter to go there. There. I said it. I am bitter towards men.

Total Eclipse of the Heart

My heart did not crumble, but it quaked. I stared at my computer in shock, as I read the message, his message word for word three times. "I'm doing great, I am married, I just bought a house in Newport News close by Yorktown, and I got a baby girl due in August, so I'm busy, busy, busy, lol". That part grated on my nerves, it was like insult to injury. Clearly it was translated to say: I am happily married, leave me the fuck alone. Or was it a nervous, I really do not want to hurt your feelings type of laugh, the type of laugh where damn either now or never but I really don't want to break this girl's heart? I found myself absent mindly counting back nine months to the time wifey could have gotten pregnant, and gasping in shock when I figured out the time. He told me about how he graduated from college, with a Master's in Law, and so on and on and on. All I could think about was how I wanted to be in HER shoes, right then, at that moment, about to give birth to HIS baby. All I could think about was how I wanted to lay on HIS chest every night and be wrapped up in HIS arms.
  Why Me? Why not me? Why her? Why now? How did she look? Does it matter? Was she light bright damn near white? Did she have hair down her back? Did she have ethnic features? Did she have kinky hair? Did she wear a weave? Why? Why? Why? I felt played, lonely, disgusted, angry. It was almost like I could hear people laughing at me, like I could hear taunts, mockery.
  I sent a message back, using all the fake excitement I could muster, I made it look as though I was talking to an old friend, an old female friend. "Oh my God, That is so wonderful! Congratulations, I am so happy for you." That shit was fake as hell, but I didnt want to seem like a damn hater, so I faked it like a true player. I have pride for Christ's sake. What was I to do, not send a message back,  or say something like "Oh well your loss". That would make me sound bitter, lonely, and desperate. Bitter, maybe, lonely, sometimes, but desperate, hell no. 

  I didn't get a response to my congratulations I sent back, nor was I expecting one. It is what it is, I have moved on. I don't believe in disturbing another woman's home, or turning holy matrimony, unholy. I am too cute, and selfish to even attempt to share, I need all the attention on me. As if you all hadn't noticed.

Dealing with Cheating Ass Men

I have received more phone calls with women crying their damn eyes out this year alone than I can remember. I have patted backs, wiped noses, and repeated the same advice over and over again for those who don't freaking listen. He cheats time and time again, and some of you have even spilled to me that he has been taking your money out of the joint account you two share and is spending it on her. One sister told me she went negative forty-five dollars in the bank and had no clue as of why. She got her bank statement and there were charges from Forever 21, Bakers, Nine West, Body Central, and so on. This man whom she has been declaring her love to has been taking his little side ho on shopping sprees with her money. First time shame on his ass, second time shame on you. Because let me tell you what these women have in common. They man has cheated before,  and they keep falling for the "I love yous" and the "Never agains" to have him continously do it again.
  Then one chick calls and texts me continously about the same thing that she should have shut down a long time ago. The sidechick keeps calling her man, texting, emailing, facebooking etc. She doesnt want to ask the girl to stop even though her man has done so, because she is too scared of losing her man. This is when I ask you to cease and desist from messaging me this bullshit. Basically you are telling me that you will let anything take place in your relationship because you are afraid to be without a man. Ladies, please.
 See, when he cheats and violates the first time, pack your shit and leave, or pack his hefty bags and set it at the corner or on the porch.
 I don't feel sorry for those who have been going through this, with the same man for years, because that is on you. Grow a backbone.

Letting Go is Hard

Sometimes I want to seek vengence on the people who have done me so dirty, so bad I wrote a list. I wrote a list with names, reasons, and how I was going to take revenge out on these people. I was not going to hurt them, I just wanted to teach them a valuable lesson. People who have broke my heart on purposes, and knew damn well what they were doing. People who have just done stuff out of spite to me. I wanted to effect these people's lives just like they had effected mine. I wanted to destroy or disturb something that was precious to them. I wrote down how I would destroy jobs, make them lose their homes, significant others, and expose them for the downlow grimey mess they were doing behind other's backs. I wanted them to suffer for doing me wrong when I had done nothing to hurt anyone. After I wrote down everything (well typed it) I was exhausted. I hadnt even done one thing and just thinking and writing about it made me so tired and weary. I started thinking real hard, that if this just made me tired and weary, just think how I would feel after I had carried out my plan. I even started feeling bad when I read over the whole list, because deep down inside those people were suffering. They had to have been miserable just to do mean things to someone who had not done anything to them.
  So I deleted the whole list, asked for forgiveness and just let it go. It was hard to delete, because those people deserved to feel every inch of my wrath. But I didnt do it, I let everything go and just forgave them. I forgave them all...All except one person. LOL. See, I had to get her. I had to get her good, and that Witch deserved what she got....HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH