I am: young. a product of my brother's influence. 5'9". a quarterbreed. pierced. free-spirited. open minded. a fighter. genuine. heartless when provoked. a fighter. involved. a realist.
I am into: myself. men. massages. comedy. writing. dancing. learning new things. challeging my mind. reading. discovery channel. history channel. all mediums of art analog and digital. proving heads wrong. dobermans. intellectual violence. movies. spoken word. video games. music. being underestimated/slept-on (so nobody expects shit out of me).
I am not into: beef or pork. religious zealots. elitists. fake intellectuals. arrogance. herbs. fake females. most females. brainwashed teenagers. being broke. people who purposely misspell words and think it's kewl. biters. abuse in all forms. compulsive liars.
Disclaimer: This site is devoted to my opinions based on my observations. Im not going to sugercoat anything and I have zero tolerance for stupidity. Utter retardation seems like a contagious disease nowadays but please dont try my patience. I however have no problem with intellectual debate or constructive criticism, but if u cant take what I have to say, bounce
May 21, 2004
brought to you by Kimmie.
Iím all settled in my new apartment. I must say though that when the apartment settles, it scares the shit out of me. And the lady upstairs must be doing some serious acrobatics at odd hours of the night. The night sounds are only truly scary because of my recent encounter with somebody I call The Night Prowler. Actually, I call him "That Crazy Mother Fucker That Showed Up Here, Girl!" But for you, it's The Night Prowler.
Check this shit out.
So, I'm chilling out on my couch. Resting my eyes, I say when I donít want to go to sleep just yet. I had just gotten off of the phone and the mood was, well, sad. The news that I had gotten over the phone was pretty shitty. So, Iím under the little chenille throw blanket, fighting back tears and I hear a knock on my door. Itís 12:15 a.m. on a random weekday. Iím alone in the apartment.
This guy comes knocking on the door, and I guess it was left slightly, just slightly ajar from the last time someone exited the place. Why my door wasnít locked at this hour, I donít know. I donít normally make that mistake. Iíll sit up in my house at noon watching Starting Over with all the doors locked and a pair of scissors under the cushion as I sip my apple juice and crack up at the fact that Nyanza just told somebody her feet were black and crusty. My dad always made us keep our shit locked up tight even in the suburbs. I live in a nice neighborhood (if I do say so myself) and thereís no need for all this precaution, but I like to stay safe, you know. When The Night Prowler knocked, it pushed the door open. Through the tiny holes in the chenille blanket, I saw a man dressed all in black peeking inside my apartment.
Immediately I had thoughts of being bludgeoned to death or raped or robbed. I was scared out of my mind. I remained completely still under the blanket and waited to hear footsteps in the distance. Coralís even been unable to find me when Iím under a blanket, just calling my name, and there I am under the blanket. So I used that tactic again. My parents once thought I was missing, but I was really just sleeping under a blanket. Ridiculous, huh?
When I heard him walking away, I karate chopped my way to the door, slammed it shut and locked it up. He came back up to the steps when he heard the door slam, and stood on the porch. Looking through the peephole (we really should lower that thing), I yelled, "Can I help you sir?" Stupid. I know. I wasnít thinking, but I did want to know who this man was on my doorstep at this crazy hour. He said he was looking for Coral. I said, "Sheís not here." He said, "May I leave my number?" Right then, I thought to myself, "I know Coral. I know she doesnít play any stopping by with no call business especially at this hour. You will get cussed out. I know that if you know her, she has your numbers so he must not really know Coral." Sure enough, he doesnít. But weíll get to that part of the story later. Even still, a part of me felt like perhaps he did know Coral. Maybe a family friend? Maybe something was wrong with her and he was here to tell me. Still stupid, I know, but our minds fuck up when we believe some shit and our guards go down, all the way down, now make your booty touch the ground. - .. I still canít get over Beyonceís hit "Bootylicious.. and I said the word long before that song came out. I donít think I coined the shit, but can I get a royalty check?
Anyway, he stood on the porch for a while waiting as if I was going to bring back a pen and paper. No sir. He walked to his truck, which was still running in the street. I could hear people talking in his car. He was with friends. He comes back with the phone number and this time a brief case. I take the number. Stupid, I know. And when I looked at him, he said to me, "Are you an actress?"
I said, "Um, I donít know what that means. Itís really late. Iíll give her the number."
He said, "No, are you an actress? Do you have an agent, a manager? Have you ever done cold reads?"
Somehow, like an asshole, I got sucked into this dumb ass conversation and I said, "Yes, Iíve done a cold read before. I donít like it. But Iíve done it. Okay? Now, Iíll give her the number. Thank you sir."
He said, "You know, the way you opened the door. The emotion. You were startled. And I would love to read you for a part in this movie. Iím a producer. This movie is a go. It will get made."
I said, "Um, no thanks. I have to go. This is uncomfortable."
Not to mention, fucking insane. Bitch, how are you going to try to audition me on my front porch at this hour? Are you out of your fucking mind? This is Los Angeles.
He said, "No, no. Donít be uncomfortable. Donít you recognize me? Iím a famous actor."
Um, if youíre famous, wouldnít I recognize you? Donít get me wrong. I do recognize random people. Hey, thatís the fast talking guy in the Office Depot commercials. But if youíre famous and you say youíre famous, youíre weird. Donít we all know that then?
He then rattled off a list of movies that I was in fact familiar with and I said, "Nope, doesnít ring a bell." I really didnít recognize him without his signature hairstyle anyway.
He then asked if he could please have five minutes of my time to go over the script and proposal for a movie about a deranged cab driver. He would be the cab driver. I said no repeatedly and shut the door. He mumbled his apologies and went away. I took his phone number and his script and tried to go on about my business. My phone rang.
A guy friend was on the other end. Perhaps he sensed there was trouble. He said hi and asked me why I was acting crazy. I told him the situation and he was livid. "Call the police! Youíre a fucking little girl. He could kill you. Iím fucking pissed. Call Coral and tell her whatís going on. What are you doing?"
He said he wanted me to call Coral, get her on the phone, call the police and call him back. I vowed I would do it kinda. He said heíd wait for me to call back. I said, "What about if I leave? I could put on a bunch of clothes and carry a knife." He was like, "What the fuck are a bunch of clothes going to do?" I said, "So if he has to snatch me and molest me, it will be more difficult." He said, "Youíre fucking retarded. Go call the police. Youíre insane. Why would you want to protect this person? Youíre weird." Okay, so wielding a knife in four layers of clothing was a stupid idea. I did do it though. When it was all said and done, I did leave the apartment and head over to my old apartment to which I still had the keys. And yes, I looked like a fool wielding a knife, cutting corners in a mismatch winter outfit. But Iím getting ahead of myself. Back to the story.
Just then, another knock on my door. Did this bitch forget his tooth or something? And I only say that because a different, actually invited houseguest last week, lost his tooth while casually talking. He did a "psshhhhhhhh," like saying, "bitch please" and his tooth fell out. It was hysterical. I played like I didnít see it. He then said he had to check on his car. As he left, he acted like he was tying his shoe, but really he grabbed the tooth off the ground. He came back and his tooth was back in.
The Night Prowler stood on my doorstep once again. This time, to invite me to a club. Through the door, heís inviting me to a club promising that if I didnít like it, heíd have me back home in an hour. Trying to lure me. This is not I Know My Name is Steven. Get the fuck on with your life sir. Trying to Elizabeth Smart me. I know these tricks. Like Iíd walk next to a van with tinted windows. So I could get snatched? Oh hell no. Ruff McGruff told me better than that way back when I was D.A.R.E.d to stay off drugs.
To a fucking club?
I said, "No."
He said, "In this business, itís important that you network if you really want to make it."
I said, "I think Iím okay. Thanks but no thanks."
Like Camp Jim, he was like, "Do you want to make it? Are you hungry for this?"
I was pissed. No.
He told me all the A-List celebrities would be there and it would be important for me to meet them.
Um, no thanks. Keep in mind, Iím wrapped up in a blanket, hair crazy, scared to death with my friend waiting for a call back.
The Night Prowler left. I IMDBíd him. He really was in a bunch of movies. Hilarious (hilariously bad) ones. Even commercially successful ones.
I left Coral a billion messages. Her mailbox gets full fast. The next day, I recapped the story to her. She was fucking livid. First of all, scaring her homie like that. Second of all, showing up here all unannounced when we donít know you. And then she told me about her encounter with him. She too, six, seven months ago, was lounging about in the living room, with the front door open, but the screen door shut. She had just come in from checking the mail. This man, The Night Prowler, showed up on her doorstep asking if she was an actress and then saying all that same shit. It was daytime, and he lives around here so it was just Weird Neighbor conversation then. Later on, months and months later, a woman said hello to Coral. And Coral waved back, but the woman was behaving like she knew her. They stopped and talked and the woman said, "Okay, I know where I know you from. But I think youíve met my husband too." Coral, knowing her husband was bizarre, said, "Yeah, he stopped by one time and introduced himself. It was weird."
So, we called the numbers that he left. He was dumb enough to leave home and cell. Coral called and said something along the lines of, "Donít ever darken my door step again and Iíll be leaving this message on your cell phone as well."
Itís true. It was completely inappropriate and bizarre for him to stop by like that when he doesnít know either of us.
His wife called us back that day. She said, "My husband was on your door step at what hour?"
She was crazy mad. Coral got me out of the shower to relay the story to the wife. I did. She apologized and said, "Iíll be getting in his ass today. This is completely fucking unacceptable and I apologize to you girls."
The wife will do a much better job punishing that fool than any karate chop, knife or cop can do. Umhmm. We told on his ass.
Just two days ago, one of his movies was on the television! On Superstation. Coral and I fell out!
Posted at 12:28 pm by soakinwet
May 4, 2004
Sunday night me and Aaron were staaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarving!
Well not really, we were just hungry. We stopped by at McDonalds and we were kinda broke by the end of the night so we quickly searched our pockets and the compartments in the car for change. We managed to find $5.25 so we both got 99 cent french fries, chicken nuggets and we shared a biggie drink. We pull over in the parking lot and we're eating and eating AND eating. Then!!!! We ran out something to drink and that was NOT a good thing! So Aaron is like, "dont they have free refills??" and I tell him "I don't know..." We're just sitting in the car, and I was I like "alright I'll go inside and check..." but the inside was closed :/ So I had the great idea of going BACK through the drive-thru and asking!! great idea right? Aaron was all laughing and stuff because it was soooooooooooooooooooo ghetto. How you gonna get back in line just to get a refill???? ahahahaha anyway! we got it!
[edit:] Im never going to Mc Donalds again!
Me and a girl from college, Steph, went to McDonalds right after school today. Im standing there looking at the dollar menu (...you know) deciding what to get, while trying to put my black & white headband back on, until one got stuck in one of my hoop earrings. I'm all struggling to untangle myself while the lady is at the cash register all aggravated waitin to take my order. So I proceed with it and asked for my caramel sundae while my head is doin a gangsta lean to the side, my earring is twisted around my ear, and I've got my index finger stretchin out my headband so it wouldn't tear my earring out. Meanwhile I'm laughing my ass off in between words because I felt awkward as hell tryin to be serious while lookin like a straight up idiot. I really need to chill on wearin them big hoop earrings for a while. I finally got my order, sat down, and wondered what the fuck just happened.
That shit ain't even sanitary.
Posted at 09:48 pm by soakinwet
Apr 12, 2004
what you won't do for love
This weekend I was reminded of the torture a little emotion puts people through. My girl Ally has had her heart broken by a man over and over again, and keeps running back to him. She constantly does everything she can for this man. She loves him, it's evident in her eyes when she speaks of him. But as the outsider looking in, I know he's playing with her heart. He thinks it's fun to tease and toy with her emotions, and he's come on very strong to me and my girls on a couple of occasions. And of course since she's my friend, I tell her over and over again - don't be so head over heels for someone who makes your life so complicated - you're only inviting pain into your life, but she's grown. She's a grown ass woman - should I really have to tell her what to do with her life? Nah, therefore I feel as though the shit is not my business in the first place. But if homegirl treats me with the knowledge and personal information, can I not share my view and opinion? Take this, for example. We went out, friday night, having a good time at this one party, tipsy and playing a card game and her cell phone rings. It's her boyfriend telling her they are going to call her and let her know where they are at 1 am so she can come by. At 3 in the morning, he still hadn't called. So we went to Denny's (don't think I didn't fight this decision, because a black chick ain't doing nothing up in Denny's but not being served), and Ally calls him back. He gave his cell phone to his boys, and they're steady trying to make her look like a fool. I feel bad, because she assumes it's just 'national male night'. He is constantly telling her that he loves her and marriage is an option, but him saying those words blinds her to the other statements he makes; "I dont think that I owe her anything - we're not together - I can sleep with who I please - I've cheated on her several times when we were together". It's hard to watch her go through all this, meanwhile, while they are making her look like a fool all night, she is sitting there taking it. Finally, he comes to the phone, and with a hint of "baby, baby, I need you" and "girl you know I love you", he might as well have been lip-synching milli vanilli ("girl you know it's true, I love yooooooooooou.."). And with just a pinch of that and a touch more of that, she was on her way to driving 45 minutes away to see him. I told her in the car that I promised her I wouldn't tell her what to do, but that she had to know what I was thinking. And if that is what she really wants, then all I can do is say ok and be there for her when she feels the need to cry over him, again.
And while I don't believe I am in love with Aaron, it just seems so funny how I thought about him on my car ride home. I couldn't even fathom being put through and taking the shit she is. My boy has never put me through any of that mess. He's considerate like that. I take back my previous type. I may not be aware of being *in* love with him, I for sure love him with everything in me.
Posted at 10:29 pm by soakinwet
Apr 11, 2004
Damn! Talk about disappearing. I apologize for the lack of effort on updating. I've been busy also been very lazy to go online but I still do read your updates, just wasn't in the mood to comment or Im in a rush in and out of the house for last minute outing.
I was allowed to stay home from college today (for no apparent reason) and I spent it talking with Terence. I realized how much my friends don't know me in comparison to how much he does. They've known me for longer than Terence has and yet he's got me down to a science. Specifically are the low moments that NOBODY can pin point. Why? When? Always unanswered questions. Typically I get sad when I interpret something to be negative or someone's said something that triggered me wrong. When I do shift moods (around him) my voice will get soft, and shallow, hardly able to hear what I say, and I won't initiate conversation enthusiastically. He asks me what's wrong and I'll always say "nothing's wrong..." but he recognizes the uncertainty to when I respond to it. I'm not telling the truth. On the other hand, friends ask me what's wrong and I just lie to them. I think it's intentional but than it's done subconciously. Sometimes it's as though other people don't have the right response. It's simple, basic, clichť replies that do nothing for what I may be feeling, so why bother bringing the subject to the surface? Sometimes people that know so little about you can best advise or comfort you in tender moments, but not through my perspective. Are friends supposed to have the key to unlock the pain inside of you? I'd rather keep it close to heart, I can deal with it better than anyone else can, but than again I'm learning to put some of it on Terence, which is what he asks and that's one reason why I love him so much blah. --Ľ
Posted at 03:45 pm by soakinwet
Mar 29, 2004
OMFG i just got the laugh of the century i did antonio soooo fuckin grimey to the fullest. raw and uncut you wanna know hit me up on aim or sumthin dawn i gotta tell you i bet you'll die laughin at this shit it is sooo fuckin hilarious you couldn't believe it. your not online so call me asap hun.
Posted at 01:32 pm by soakinwet
Feb 10, 2004
I'd like to apologize to everyone who tried to Instant Message me this weekend. I was not even in my house; an emergency popped up and my roommate and I had to drive to Pasadena at the drop of a hat. I didn't even have time to put my away message up. Unfortunately, my friend's roommate got into a really terrible car accident on Friday morning. She was pledging a certain sorority and she her line sisters were up all night and they tried to drive home at around 8 in the morning...she fell asleep at the wheel...crashed...broke all her ribs and collapsed one of her lungs...another girl had to have open heart surgery and is in intensive care..another girl got out with just scratches and bruises...another one had a broken arm...and another girl had a tongue ring and I'm sure you can guess what happened...they had to totally reconstruct her tongue. So yeah, it was a horrible car accident and my friend was hysterical. We found out about the accident at 6:30 and at 7:15 we were on the highway to Pasadena.
AND THAT, my friends, was the icing on the cake for me. I will NEVER pledge NOBODY'S sorority. EVAR! I didn't want to before just from my own decision but now I am absolutely positive.
First of all, I don't stay up all night PERIOD. Secondly, ever since those two women drowned here in California, I've been real cool on sororites. Thirdly, I'm not the one to have somebody MY AGE talk down to me and humiliate me. And if you hit me, consider that ass to be GRASS by the time we finish fighting. Fourthly, 90% of the females in sororites get on my damn nerves. There ARE a few that are hella cool but the rest of them hoes can holla back, with their stank ass haughty attitudes. I have enough friends; I don't need to pay somebody for the privilege (No offense to anybody who is in a sorority, but that shit aint my cup of Koolaid and yall KNOW how I get when I dont like something).
Posted at 04:47 pm by soakinwet
Feb 5, 2004
Life is too short for me to dwell on what could have been, or what I wish had never happened. What is meant to be will be. It's time to let go and let destiny take over. Today was my grandfathers funeral. Today was also a landmark in me and my fathers relationship. It made us both realize that our differences needed to be put to the side because tomorrow isn't promised to anyone. Today.. for the first time in ages, my father and I hugged. Not just any hug.. he hugged me like his baby girl, and I hugged him like the hero he once was and became again, today. His eyes filled with tears as mine ran down his chest. And in that moment standing there in Mt Hope cemetery in the grass, it didn't matter that we hadn't gotten along for the past four years. It didn't matter that we don't always see eye to eye, hell- it didnt even matter that my brand new stilletto heels were sinking in mud. Nothing mattered but that moment. And although all I could manage to mutter out between the tears was "Sorry." .. from the way his grip tightened, I know that one word meant the world to him. Death seems to have a way of putting everything in a new light. Everything that once seemed important somehow turns miniscule. You realize what really counts. You realize that even with the Dior pumps, louis vuitton bags, and highlighted flipped layers.. that without love.. youre not shit. If you base your worth on what you possess.. and all of your possessions are lost.. then what are you worth? Theres more to life.. I can't keep giving 50% in fear of being hurt. Its time to give more. It's time for me to really live. Today is the day I let go of the backstabs, heartbreaks, & disappointments. It's time to clean out my mental hard drive because love needs that space.
Posted at 08:43 pm by soakinwet
Dec 15, 2003
You know how when people are intoxicated/elevated they think they spit mad knowledge and deepness? See, as opposed to most, I actually do. Not that I'm incapable of thought when straight, but alcohol/weed induced Kyedi's starts thinking so hard it hurts. Hence the below entry. I wrote that shit when I was herbalized. Didn't want to mention that cause I thought it'd take away from what I was tryin to say, nahmean? On a random note, this may offend some people but guess what? I don't really care. I'm gonna say it anyway cause this blog space has been given to me. The arrogance and greed of white people really amazes me sometimes. And just so you know, when I say "White People", I am speaking of the greedy, arrogant, White Supremacist attitude that some white people have had for centuries. I just finished this book on Apartheid in South Africa and it infuriated me. Five million privileged white people relegating 25 million blacks to the most destitute poverty you can imagine just because they didn't want to lose their pools, their maids and their lunchtime martinis. Something is wrong with that shit. South African blacks fighting with their lives until the DEATH because that's all they have. All they want is a chance to be recognized as citizens and be treated equally, but that would mean the wealthy Afrikaaners would lose all their privilege. The same shit that went on over in South Africa went on here in the United States. Black men who worked for themselves and did better than their white peers could expect for the punk ass cowards of the Ku Klux Klan to ride through in their bitchmade sheets and ruin everything he worked for, just because they were envious, because in their minds, they were superior to all blacks, even if they were the most gutter trash in the area, and for a black man to have that confidence and success only made them realize how far down on the totem pole they actually were. The number one reason that black men were lynched in the United States was because they got too "uppity" and white people would have rather DIED than have a black person be their equal. Suprisingly, supposedly attacking/raping white females was #2 on the list.
He's only a character, but in Uncle Tom's cabin, a brilliant mulatto man named George was put in the fields by his master because his master felt inferior to him. "Uncle Tom's Cabin" is fictional, but that shit went on back then and even nowadays. My dad's an intelligent man, he's an engineer, and unfortunately, when he comes home from work, it's always some jealous ass white dude at his job trying to get him fired because my dad is doing his job better than he is and also because all the white women at his job are on my dad's vas deferens. So instead of trying to find out how HE can get some of that pie, he'd rather try to bring my dad down. Which makes me want to ask white people...WHAT ARE YOU SO AFRAID OF?
Posted at 04:25 pm by soakinwet
Dec 14, 2003
Remember when Brandy was younger and her mother wouldn't let her show her bellybutton until she was 18? Why is it now, however, that her brother Ray-j can sing about sticky green, gin & juice, sex and ma dukes has nothing to say? ma is both of their managers, by the way. she markets older daughter to be virginal and sweet. She markets younger son to be thuggish and sexual. what the deal with that, mang? $1000 answer: masculine/feminine double standards mixed in with good ole fashioned greed. Homegirl couldn't show her stomach but her brother can talk about sex and drugs. This is the same country where men congratulate other men for fucking women over, lying, cheating, and playing games with women's heads for sexual gratification. Especially with some black men that shuck and jive in an attempt to play into the whitebread mainstream's perception of masculinity. Of course it exists in tantamount when male/female roles are reversed, and perhaps even race, but I have no time to be politcally correct when I'm speaking on my own folks. This country is sad but even more sad is the black condition, especially when it deals with how we treat each other. its almost funny how heads run around acting like apes, never realizing that the nigga mentality and stereotype they are so quick to speak out against and make fun of is really self-realization. How you gonna be so quick to ridicule somebody when the same thing you find diss-worthy is present within yourself? When will chickens realize that the difference between them and women is an ignorant and dim nature that keeps them from ever realizing their own chickenhead susceptibilities? You know whats more pathetic than one chickenhead? Two chickenheads. Each trying to convince the other that they're actually not. Why do chickens search for faults in others? The same faults they fail to see in themselves in fact? And why, when this is pointed out to them, do they try to make jokes? If somebody has a death in their family and a chickenhead tells them a joke and they don't laugh - the chickenhead will automatically assume its cause they're hating on the joke. Chickenheads only see the surface of their triflingness. They're about as deep and soulful as a frying pan. I will not shuck and jive or clown to get false friends. I wrote this over a month ago, yet avoided posting it because it is already predestined that heads will misunderstand my intent.
Posted at 01:19 pm by soakinwet
Dec 13, 2003
you know...everytime I think about how frustrated and bad my father makes me feel, I immediately have to counter by reminding myself Will's father is dead. I'm sure he would rather have his father alive and annoying then deceased. All that aside for momentary venting purposes, I love my dad so much and it was a nice gesture for him to fly out here to spend thanksgiving with me but I am not happy right now. until he leaves tomorrow afternoon I won't be able to breathe. I can't take a step without him berating me for stepping that way...he's complained, at least thirty times in the past four days, and I am NOT exaggerating in the least, about how much he hates my apartment, how it's a piece of shit, how I wasn't raised like this, how he's gonna personally see to it that I move out of new york and back to either denver or DC where either he or my brother can watch me like a hawk and run my life until the day I did.
Thats not fair to my brother, though...hes not nearly as bossy...but I know my father feels he can control me through him...thats how it was the entire time I was at howard. since tuesday my father has been cleaning my apartment...now the average person wouldn't see the problem with this but lemme break it down for you. he will use it against me later. I give it a month...and then it'll never end, ever, like the guilt trips he gives me to this day about shit that happened when I was 15, 16 years old. he'll say "I had to come to new york and save you"...even though I don't need saving. a year from now, when I make another choice in my life thats not up to his standards, he'll say "you can't even take care of yourself correctly, I had to travel hundreds of miles to clean your apartment". he is real good at that.
So he doesn't like the way I live...he has a right not to...but I have a right not to care. my father has been running my life for years...bullying me into doing shit he wants so I "lower his blood pressure"...man I just really truthfully wanna follow my own path. I been in new york for four years, doing this shit by my fuckin self, supporting myself, doing my own thing, finding a way where there wasn't one. I've lived in this apartment three years and ten months and hes never once bothered to visit me until now...so after nearly four years paying my own rent all of a sudden I need him to sweep down and run shit? I am the sole proprietor of this bitch...my fuckin life...he's in my kitchen right now scrubbing my floor which I already scrubbed...although he has been complaining about a sore throat and headache all day. when I asked him to please go sit down he snapped at me...and said "no I said I was going to scrub it and I'm going to scrub it"...he has been cleaning shit this entire fuckin time like I'm dirty. I scrubbed and cleaned every surface in this place before he got here...but he always gotta belittle shit I do, even shit as small as scrubbing a floor. I didn't do it "good enough" so he has to do it. my apartment isn't "good enough" so he has to take me store to store trying to find a mop he likes instead of the perfectly adequate mop I already have. I don't eat dairy but he had to buy milk and cheese, which will get thrown away the second he walks out my door, because I'm not "good enough" to decide my own meals.
Today we had to go to a furniture store to buy a table for my kitchen because HE thinks I should have one. even though I am working with minimal space as it is and I've learned to make do...I need yet another item of bullshit in my apartment so he can sleep better in denver tomorrow night. yea, after nearly four years, NOW I need another table in my kitchen...the fuck...aww man I am not explaining this "good enough" either...I don't know how to put it into words. but I have been crying since he got here, wiping away angry tears...because after all I have done to make it on my own, even sacrificing shit I really wanted but knew I couldn't afford, after I came to new york with three hundred dollars, two suitcases, and one duffel bag and worked my way up to an apartment I can call ALL MINE, in his eyes I haven't done shit. he has to SAVE me. he has to FIX the life he feels I've fucked up because I, God forbid, don't have the right fuckin mop or he sees a spot on the floor so I'm too incompetent to mop correctly...he thinks I'm overwhelmed...well no shit...but I don't run to daddy everytime I am, I'm a grown ass woman...he doesn't want me to be.
All he does is exaggerate...my radiator turns on and all of a sudden its "literally one hundred and five fuckin degrees in here!"...I sit down at the computer for an hour to answer some emails from my clients and to finish a website I've already been paid for and it's "you are addicted to the computer!" he asks me what time I went to bed last night, my answer of 3am turns into 5:30am later when he's talking to his wife...when he goes back to denver I'm sure he'll tell anyone that can listen how his daughter lives in a cardboard box.
I am really not ungrateful he came...I actually knew this was going to happen way before he arrived...but sometimes I just feel like I'm suffocating. he holds me so tight I can't even be a whole person when he's around. he wonders why I ran away to new york, well why is it a mystery...all I wanted to do was be me, away from everybody else...who I am is good enough. sick of heads telling me its not enough...my parents are supposed to support and teach me...the majority of what they've done since I decided to get the fuck away from their unwavering judgemental glare is nag me.
My father asked me last night "I'm depressing you, aren't I?" I said no because it would've lead to a five hour discussion starring all the shit I've heard before...but he really does. I wanted to have a good time with him; I haven't spent thanksgiving with him in like eight years, but I couldn't even get that. he couldn't stand to see that I was satisified with a life he's to bougeouise to accept... he hates to see me getting by without depending on him (cause obviously he feeds off of it)...blah.
ok so I wrote this last friday...I am still mad and it's almost a week later...but when he was at the airport on his way back home to denver saturday he struck up a conversation with a girl who happened to be a dominican lesbian from queens (uncanny I tell ya) who's godmother played the original role of mimi in broadway's "rent". she's supposed to be calling. even if she doesn't...my father's ability to do shit like that...to find people I might click with...and his willingness to help me...is noted. and I love him so so much. I'm still pissed off though.
Guess what...thank you to nicole who got me the matrix reloaded dvd and white teeth from my wishlist...I should've said so earlier...but I was busy. I would've emailed you a thanks but I'm not even sure who you are...thank you though.
Posted at 02:45 pm by soakinwet