Am I Dreamin'?

The life that I have so carelessly, yet carefully built is about to be revamped. Reconstructed. I'm feelin'....REVITALIZED. RECHARGED.RENEWED. Never thought, dreamed, imagined...that at this stage of my existence that I could begin all over again. Whoa! I am beyond ecstatic. Over the moon and beyond the Milky Way would be more of an accurate description. Lol. 

Yet...I'm also afraid, nervous. Facing the unknown can be a very scary and sobering experience. Believe me. It's not one that I am taking lightly.Yes suh. Life as I once knew it will cease to exist. There will be differences. Changes that I plan and some that will be out of my control. I've asked myself a thousand times (or even more) if I'm ready for this. Let's just be real. I'll never have all the answers. However, I've been presented with a new opportunity to take my life by the horns. This time I plan on makin' more responsible choices so that the important people of my life don't have to endure the harsh consequences of my own selfish actions. On the other hand, I also plan on smellin' the Texas bluebonnets, swimmin' the blue and sparklin' waters of the Pacific, flyin' the friendly skies to fun and friendly destinations  and just enjoyin' bein' with my family. Most importantly, I am gonna have a ball bein' just who God created me to be. ME.

Could I Get Past This??!!

My heart felt like it was tap dancin' on the top of my stomach. With steel toed boots on. Sweat was  drippin' and rollin' like a river underneath my arms. Man, this was bad. REAL bad. My hubby. The man that saw me without my bangin' and bombtastic weave. The one who held his laugh in when I almost tongue kissed the sidewalk after trippin' in my cute lil' five inch heels. This oh-so-talented brotha' who could make me moist like Duncan Hines Red Velvet cake just by lookin' at me cockeyed. Yes honey... HIM. Told me  that he no longer wished to be committed to just one woman. Wanted to live that different-flavor of-ice cream every- week-type lifestyle. It was like Floyd Mayweather gave me a mean right hook to the side of my dome. Wasn't prepared for that one.

I didn't want my marriage to end. Lawd knows I didn't. But at the same time, I felt like I was not willin' to share my man like I would my fries and sweet and sour sauce from Mickey D's. I had to ask my best friend to pack his bags and get to steppin'. Man, I felt trapped like R Kelly. Did I want him to leave? Nawl! This was our home. Our lil' love shack. Yet, this man was basically tellin' me that he wanted to be able to hit and quit with as many women as he could handle! Do I love him? More than Lil' Wayne loves gettin' tattoos. Question is, how do you go on livin' with a man whose actions tell you that you no longer satisfy or meet his needs?

After his catastrophic confession, things got real stanky. Just downright...funky. No middle of the night and early mornin' sessions of  that hot and sweaty sticky stick. Watching late night reruns of Martin together whoopin' and hollerin' had come to a QUICK stop. When he finally did leave I felt like I had eaten ten Taco Bell chulupas, a side of refried beans chased by a bottle of Crown Royal. Vomit inducing, Hershey squirts ...SICK. Couldn't see how this situation was EVA gonna get betta'. I was devastated, dismayed and downright embarrassed. How could I look my fam in the face? His family? How does a woman deal?  Revenge? Retribution?

Ok. I admit. I thought about gettin' me some get back. Thought about it a WHOLE lot. But if I did do that, then who or what would I become? Could I really live with myself? The answer is...a big, fat, overweight...NO. Had to just find another way to throw away this excruciating, mind alterin' pain. But then the dark sunglasses of denial slowly begin to come off. Realized that life is full of bad stuff and worse people. There is no  proper way to "dispose" or "get rid of" the obstacles or situations that torment our mind and emotions on the daily. We simply have to WALK THROUGH whatever storms are sent our way. Period. Point blank. Even though I felt like my husband was as wrong as someone puttin' pink lipstick on a monkey, I knew that I had played my part too.

After some serious prayer time and  fall-on-my-face repentance, I had to seek my Lord's face and guidance.  My beloved & I are still apart. Yet...I'm ok with that. Fa real. No frontin' here. Now don't get me wrong. Being away from him has been one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. Wouldn't want to do it again. But the rewards have been SO worth it. It's given me a chance to rediscover who I am NOW. Yes, this experience has changed me. But for the better. I don't go around bashin' my hubby and sayin' all kinds of foul thangs. Don't hate him...just hate WHAT he did and HOW he did it. Despite all the heartache, my life is still so full of joy and wide eye expectation. Thank you Heavenly Father for the gift of life and FORGIVENESS. To my beautiful husband, all your past mistakes and choices have been WIPED OUT. I bear no ill will or feelings.

It Just Ain't Fair!!

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Question. Will us femme fatales ever be seen as equal to our male counterparts when it comes to this slippery slope that we call "relationships?" Based on my own exploits and experiences, my answer would be a loud and resounding HECK NAWL!!!
Now, don't trip. This ain't no male bashin'-waitin-to-exhale-all-men-are-dogs kinda post (I'll get to that another day).
Nawl, what I'm writing about today is so up close and personal that you can smell what kind of breath mint I've been using. Yeah..LIKE THAT. Prepare yourself.

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My hubby is very complimentary. I love that about him. Tellin' me how he likes the hip, dip and slip of my luxurious landscape. The fact that I'm a ride or die type of wife and mom. These words sound like they would tickle the eardrum of any red blooded woman, am I right? There's just one problem. He's not what one would call an equal opportunity type guy. Allow me to break it down. He feels like because he is a man, there are certain things that he is able to do but I am not.

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What exactly am I talkin' about? Interactions on the Book. Facebook, that is. See, my life partner starts sweatin' and screw facin' whenever he sees some of the pics that I add to my page. He claims that he doesn't want other dudes lookin' at what belongs to him and only him. Now mind you, the only men that I have on my friends list are my relatives and his. Maybe a couple of old family friends sprinkled in here and there. Nothing major. Said that it doesn't matter. He says that men will look regardless of the relationship.

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Ok. I hear what he's saying. I'm not a man so, true enough I don't know how their minds work. BUT, if that's the case then why does he get to troll through different profiles of women with names like "Mirandameltonmelikecandlewax?" Ya know the kinds of raunchy and ratchet pics where the woman's toes have committed suicide on the front of her scuffed high heel sandals and she has the nerve to have one leg cocked up on a rusty bathroom sink? Mmhmmm...exactly. Now do you see why our disagreements get so hood that they need to be uploaded to Worldstar?

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Personally, I don't think it's right. Why does he feel like its ok to set the standard for me but then he has a whole 'nother set of rules for himself? He can look at women, but doesn't want men lookin' at me. Correct me if I'm wrong, but fair exchange ain't no robbery!!

Booty Flixs, FB Tricks, and MORE!!!

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My hubby and I are fantastically, ridiculously, passionately, love. At least 75-90 % of the time. We've fought the Battle of the Baby Mamas and came out victoriously. He's seen me without my bangin' Beyonce hairpieces and hasn't went screamin'out in the street in his boxers and doorag hollerin 'bout everything he knew was a lie. In other words,we pretty much keep it a hunnid.

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Now my sexy boo boo bear is not what you would call sociable. In fact, he would much rather drink muddy hot dog water than to sit 'round a whole bunch of folks shuckin' and jivin' and chit chattin' it up all night. As for me, wellllll.....I kinda fall on the opposite end of the spectrum. Whoopin' and hollerin' with a gang of my homegurls is one of the things I most enjoy doin'. Enter stage left Facebook. I loved it!! It was like gettin' together and catchin' up over a drink with old homegurls I ain't seen in a month of Sundays via internet style!! Man, this was the bizness!!! 

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Being somewhat of a social standoff, my suga' dumplin' declined his ticket to ride on the FB train. Felt like there might be a lil' too much daytime drama for his taste. One day he decided to go slidin' through  my public pics that I had on display. As he goes scrollin'  down my page I hear some gruntin' and grumblin' comin' from his gut. Mmmmmm...not a good sign. He then proceeds to show and tell me what he wants me to do. My baby SHOWS me the flicks he doesn't approve of and TELLS me to delete them!! Starin' at my page, he tells me that all "back shots" aka "booty shots" need to be rubbed out and removed IMMEDIATELY. Ok, ok. I could see that. Next, my pissed off partner says that I need take down any photos that show my shape off in any form or fashion even if it wasn't a bootylicious shot. Dang! He delivered the verdict but I didn't even get a fair trial!!

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Whoa now! He couldn't possibly be serious. Yet the mean mug and side eye stare let me know that he wasn't playin'. The way I saw it I had two choices. DOOR #1- Gone 'head and take them pics down so that my sexy spouse wouldn't have my head on a platter or DOOR #2- Leave them where they were and risk his wrath but possibly have really great makeup sex later. I decided to exercise my right to be rebellious and told The voice on my walkie talkie inside my conscience was screechin' and cracklin' "SHOTS FIRED!! SHOTS FIRED!!"
It was at this point that my husband and bestest friend declared...WAR.

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Ahhh, yes. Just got finished takin' a nice, hot, relaxin' shower. After givin' it alot of thought (and swallowin' that huge basketball lump in my throat called PRIDE) I decided to wave the white flag of surrender. I was not only gonna take the pics down, but was willin' to deep six my account. When I walked in our bedroom he asked me how could he access HIS FB account from the Ipad. WHAT IN THE NAME OF PIG FEET AND HAIR GREASE DID HE JUST ASK ME??!! HIS FB ACCOUNT??!! It was like I had the taste and teeth knocked clean out of my mouth. No, he didn't!!!! Oh, it just got real up in this beyotch!!!

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The next mornin' I woke up still somewhat swole. I grabbed my laptop to see exactly what my husband had been up to. Chile',
what I saw next made me wanna...

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If this negroid don't get them broke-down-ashy-knees-Walmart-weave-wearin-lips-so-chapped-they-could-cut-glass-havin'-trashy-trick-behind-tramps off his so called friends list,then it's 'bout to get real stanky up in this piece!! Ain't that just like a man to be hypocritical??!! Now, he made me get rid of all my exes and male friends that wasn't some kin to us, but then he could turn right around and do the opposite? Chile' please. Remember those toot-it-and boot it shots my man asked me to take down before? Humph. Put 'em right back up there with the quickness plus a new one. Added some folks to my list. Honey, wasn't NOTHIN' civil 'bout this war.

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This situation had escalated to nasty and skanky proportions. Sadly, neither one of us would stand down. We were both just as stubborn as Mr. Ed. Here's what I knew. We were both danglin' dangerously off a cliff and if one of us didn't call a truce, then we would go tumblin' off headfirst. I had enough. It had just gotten past redonkulous (yes, I said rendonkulous, not ridiculous). Stompin' around the crib not speakin'.Sleepin' on the edge of the bed so that no part of my body would touch his. Forget about makeup sex or sex of any kind. I had put a padlock and ball and chain on all my lovely lady lumps. Somewhere along the line I came to the conclusion that FB just wasn't worth what me and my husband were doin' to one another. I decided to shut the Book down. Later that day, he received a call from one of his people down South. She informed him that one of his baby mamas had gotten WAY out of pocket. This jealous jawn posts her convo that she had with my hubby on her page. But that ain't all.

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She then proceeds to tell all her lil' FB friends that I was insecure because I told my husband that if he needed to discuss anything about their son, then she could send him a message but he did NOT need to add her as a friend. It was the same regarding my kids fathers. This chick was hotter than my 8th grade Algebra's teacher's breath cuz he let herknow what was really up. At this point, is when my carmel cream threw in the towel. He confirmed that this was way more drama then he was willing to deal with. As a result, he asked me to shut it down. Smilin' and cheesin' like Chester the Cheetah, I happily obliged. All was right in our world...again.

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Let me end by speakin' this truth. This post was not meant to smash or trash FB. By no means am I sayin' that it's evil and that Mark Zuckerberg is the devil in a blue suit for even creatin' this. I actually enjoyed the time I spent on it (probably WAYYYY too much time). But when it became a threat to disintegrate the ties that my man and I had spent all these years building, well...NOTHING is worth that.

If Drama Were Vodka... family would be tow'-down-throwin-up-in-the-glove-compartment-of-the-car WASTED!!!!


 We have over-the-counter-medication for headaches, backaches. Shoot, we even have medicine for those embarrassing hershey squirt moments. Yet, can anything be perscribed for a massive drama overdose? Man, these kids are makin' me wanna do a swan dive off the Brooklyn Bridge wearing a tiara, lead boots and a grass skirt. *Deep guttural sigh*.
Yes, it's just THAT bad.
Let me break it down.


My 19 y.o. daughter and her hubby are living with me. Here's why. Back in the summer, my child decided that she wanted to perfect her stabbing skills on their mattress. My spooked son-in-law called 5-0. As a result of this incident (and other things) the state removed my grandaughter from their care. Child Protective Services told them that in order to get her back that they would need to move closer to me. We figured that they could move in with me for a hot second while they look for their own lil' love shack.
Seems simple enough, right?


I respect the fact that my seed is grown. However, I was always raised to believe that when you cohabitatin' in someone else's humble abode that you should follow whatever their rules are. Yeah, well...not her. She feels like she should be the exception. One of the guidelines that I set was that if they got to fussin' & feudin', then they would need to take that OUTDOORS.The reason being is because their arguments can quickly escalate like they auditionin' for some new ratchet reality series. Chile' I ain't got time to be refereein' no fights!! I've got 3 other children to see about!


Monday night. Just got finished havin' some sexy time with my handsome hubby. Sittin' back up in the cut just chillin'...relaxin'. Next thing I hear is a cross between a moose mating call and somebody hollerin'. I jumped up and asked my oldest son what that noise was. Regretably, he told me that it was my daughter and her hubby havin' a fight. Again. Doors slammin'. Bumpin' and thumpin' of someone runnin' up and down the stairs. What in the name of Santa Claus is goin' on out there??!! Plus, my two youngest kids were asleep too!! Awwww...HECK NAWL!!!
This isn't the first time I've had to remind them not to do all that carryin'on in front of my other kids. Each one always blames the other. Well, I've just about had it. As per our agreement, if they continued to violate the guidelines, then I would be at liberty to give them their 2 week notice. Which I did.


My daughter than proceeds to try raise her voice at decibels that was WAY too high. Tryin' to tell me how it wasn't her fault. The hubby is to blame...she says. Chile' please. Tell it to Judge Joe Brown cuz I ain't tryin' to hear it! Based on my decision, my mom thinks that I'm Desdemona, the devil's daughter. At this point, I'm not sure I really care anymore. Over the years, her bad decisions and choices have had us to report her as a runaway. Call the cops on numerous occassions for her dangerous behavior. My mom just had to bail her out of jail back in the summer! When does it end?
Pardon my loose lips, but...I'm tired of residing at 111 Drama Drive right up the street from Tragedy Turnpike. I want peace in my life and that of my family. Is that so wrong?

Someone PLEASE Call 911!


Why Wyclef....WHY??!! How could he throw Lauryn under the Greyhound bus like that?  Somebody get this man a bottle of Immodium AD cuz clearly he has a bad case of diarrhea of the mouth! I'm sayin'. The Fugees went their own separate ways back in 1997. Here it is 2012. If he felt like Lauryn treated him like a 2 dollar giglolo workin' a hot dog stand, why didn't he sound off about it then? WHY NOW??!


This situation truly got my sista' gurl wheels-a-turnin'.  What is Wyclef "Why Ya -Wanna-Do-Me-Wrong" up to? It all of a sudden hit me like a pimp slap from Ike Turner. Could he possibly be regurgatatin' all this old news to try to get some public interest in his new tell all book? These are some straight-with-no-chaser sissified shannigans!! How he gone put L Boogie on blast (and not to mention his WIFE at the time) by talkin' about this so called tantalizin' and torrid affair in which he thought he had gained a love child ? Wellllll...looks like Rohan was rockin' and knockin' dem boots too!!


Wyclef was dead-in-the-water wrong for this one. Could he not have kept his big piranha pothole shut? Are book sales really all that serious that you got to air out your dirty drawers for the whole world to see? I guess it is true what the rap group Divine Sounds said:
" It might sound sad...
It might sound funny...

Mind Blowin' Decisions


"Lawdy, Lawdy look who just turned 40!"
I can remember when my sweeter-than-a sugar-sundae husband said this phrase to me.
Wanted to punch him so hard that he swallowed his eyeballs and coughed up his eyelashes!
I mean, who did he think he was??!!
Just cuz  my luv muffin is a couple years younger don't mean that he ain't gettin' older too!!
(Yes, I'm a proud resident of Cougarville..and..what??)
Even though he was tryin' to be fabulously funny like a badly manufactured Mike Epps, it got me to thinkin'.


I've got a wonderfully wacked out 19 y.o. queen who just got hitched and now has a lil' bambino of her own.
My king-in-training just graduated and is on his way to higher education.
Also have two younger ones who won't stay kids forever.
The question is...where does that leave me?
Yes, I do have a sexy, smack-ya-lips, generously gifted hubby who is very supportive.
Yet, I often wonder what else am I supposed to be doin'?
Am I SUPPOSED to be doin' anything else?


I know that I shouldn't compare myself with my homies, but..I just can't help it!
My friends that I grew up with back home seem to be really makin' it happen.
They takin' luxury trips. Gettin' paid well on their jobs. Nice homes and families.
When I break it all down, I realize somethin'.
Our lives are distinctively different because of the choices we made.
They made a decision to finish college like somebody with good sense. I chose to drop out and play house and have babies that I couldn't afford.
Sometimes I wonder what my life would've been like if I had stayed on that professional track.
Would I have become that head shrink that I always dreamed of?


Where would I have been livin'? Would I have been pushin' that winter white Benz with the buttery leather seats and wood grain interior?
Chile' who knows? It's anybody guess.
Havin' said that, here's what I discovered.
Despite all the wrong turns and detours I've made on this rugged and rough road we call life, I feel like Ralph must've felt like on Christmas Story when he finally got that BB gun he was trickin' to get.
Blissfully, wonderfully, ridiculously, smilin' so-hard-that the-corners-of-your-mouth-crack HAPPY.
Ya know, a lil' sumptin' like this:

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I mean, why wouldn't I be? I've got a spouse who not only makes me drool, babble and hiss like a garden snake in heat, but he's also my bestest friend this side of the Alamo.
I mean...he's like the collard greens to my hamhocks.
He's to my Peaches.
Seriously..he's like..ok, you get it.
My offspring are healthy and thriving.
Let my daytime drama be a lesson.
Try to make sound decisions the FIRST time.
Let's face it. One wrong choice can alter your life in ways you can't control or imagine.
If one isn't careful, he or she could spend the rest of their days tryin' to play catch up.
Plus, let's be real. Who has that kind of time?

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