I'm kinda clairvoyant

Obama + Biden = Unstoppable!!!!!

In one of my 2008 predictions I called this shot.

I'm SO IN LOVE with this Union. These were my two top choices back in Q4 07. Biden's amazing stance on education and domestic violence...strength and rigidity in foreign policy coupled Obama's vision and hope for the future. I feel so inspired. I will believe in my leaders again.

*BTW, I just clicked to donate again. I encourage you to do the same*

24 Hours....of Me.

WAIVES HELLO!!! What's cracking? I don't know what has possessed me to post a picture. Compromising my anonymity taught me one painful lesson earlier this year. However, I did learn from that experience. Basically, I got called the eff out for my raw, real thoughts. The old blog was my personal vent. I wrongly naively assumed that out of the millions of people that are on the internet, nobody that I personally knew would land on my lil' url spot. Well now, most people know that I have a lil url spot and may visit me. However, to the others that read and realize that the know me...deal with it. I blogged before you, I'll blog after you.

And if you happen upon and know me....feel free to say hello. That way we can all avoid unnecessary drama, right? lol, altho' I'd assume that the entire gang would stop by to be nosy.

Because most people ask...yes they are real. Victoria really does keep a great secret. However, I don't. But on fakeness in the picture...my smile, it's for the camera, not from the heart. Oh wells...you get the main idea.

Borrowing

Would you and/or do you borrow money from friends?

or

Do you / would you only borrow money from people that you were in a relationship with?

I just heard an interesting perspective. One said they'd only borrow money from folks that they were in a relationship because the level of intimacy is deeper. Then they were like...think about it, relationships are built upon sex and money. Friendships are not.

I'm chewing on that like it's grape flavored bubble gum.

Throwback #2: Grown Folk Talk Session #1

My guilty pleasure show is Real Housewives of Orange County. Quinn is the classic, "oh but I'm catholic and play by the rules, but God'll forgive my outrageous sexual appetite" type woman. She says, "I need to get marriage so that I can let my sensual side out I'm a FREAK. "

On the episode her boyfriend and her went out to vegas. They had a serious conversation that didn't quite enhance the mood. As a result, her boyfriend (Bobby) went down to the floor to play. We see her in her room putting on fake lashes, a wig and an knock-out outfit. She "transforms" into her alter-ego, Roxy. Roxy goes down to the casino floor, finds Bobby and in an ultra-confident, almost cocky mode flirts shamelessly with Bobby. We're grown...we know how things ended up!

Have you ever dressed up and got in character to PUT IT ON your SO?

I've never done full-out role playing. But I do have some good tricks up my sleeve. Like the time I snuck into his garage, waited for him to get back on his flight to ATL. He was surprised that I was waiting in the garage. But then BAM, I kicked it up a notch by stepping out the car wearing only the pink trench coat. We're grown...we know how things ended up!

Throwback #1: Does the Flash Not Work?

I had deleted my previous blog for reasons that I won't mention. However, my blog chronicles who I am and what I've gone through. I recently found that I copied quite a bit from the previous blog prior to deleting it...thank God. So today, I'm going to post a few throwbacks...

I'm driving 35-40 mph on Paces Ferry. There is an old red pick-up car slighty behind me to the right and a boxy blue buick/oldsmobile to my left, parked at the red light approximately 200 feet away from me. Naturally, I begin to break for the redlight...only my car continues at the 35-40 mph pace. I have completely lost control of the car. My eyes dart around, quickly scoping out the scene, my mind reacting likewise, "What is going on with my car? Why isn't it breaking? Am I in a bad dream right now?" Realizing that I'm not about to wake up or be put to permenant rest, I swerve slightly to the right to avoid the boxy blue buick/olsmobile. I say, slightly...that was my intended move. "Okay, this is reality, I have to take control of the situation, I can do this. You have to regain control." My parent's joint soul reitterates what they've told me before, "Don't fight the direction your car is naturally traveling in. " My car vehemently circles to the right in a spinning motion. I do as told, and turn my wheel toward the right. I'm sliding faster than Disney on Ice.

Now that the car to my left is out of my range, I quickly see the side of the bridge and the red pick-up approaching me. Now completely out of control, "Is this it, I mean really, is this the end? I can't believe it. My life isn't flashing before my eyes, I wonder how my family is going to be notified" And I resigned, no fear, no fighting it, no flashes. Although I am completly out of control of the car; I felt completely in control of the situation. The situation is that I lived my life the best way that I knew how to. I loved and was loved. I accomplished and exceeded my goals. Everything was okay.

All these thoughts flooded my head in the short moments before my car came to a stop two lanes displaced and facing the edge of the bridge. The red pick-up slowly passed me...I couldn't see the person inside, but I could sense their soul...looking over me to ensure that I was okay.

And after feeling over-calmed and resigned by the end...I panicked the second that I realized that I was fine. Life would continue. I would continue to love, be loved, find complete bliss, have heartbreaks, exceed goals, miss deadlines, stress, rejoice. My heart pounded, my thoughts - moments ago were serenely calm, but were now a jumbled mess.

Life IS that stimulating and thrilling. Even if there are no flashes.

Who Beholds

I was having a brief internet convo earlier about how I don't carry the sense of entitlement that some pretty/attractive people do b/c I didn't grow up being told that I was attractive. Like you know...attractive people just get free shit sometimes, so due to conditioning they start to think they are entitled to privilege.

As a child, growing up around all whites, I didn't fit their standard of beauty and was rarely recognized as pretty/attractive. Even when I was around blacks, they made me feel too light or too unblack to be pretty/attractive.

Well - ya girl grew up. However, the scars are still there.

Upon re-reading the message that birthed the "teenage OMG squeal," post...I had to pause. I had validation that I was pretty... from somebody that I put on a pedastal during the time when I felt ugliest in my life. His validation meant more than any compliment on my physical appearance that I've received in a long time. That 10 year old girl with no self esteem finally got the compliment that she wanted back in the early 90s. For a moment, I bought into the notion that, perhaps I am more attractive than I give myself credit only because he said so. I should've felt that without his vindication.

Gots to thinking - beauty is in the eye of the beholder...BUT ARE YOU THE BEHOLDER, OR ARE OTHERS.

for me...I think others, at least for a long time. Even now, I believe it mostly b/c of reinforcement from others, not from within. Hopefully I'll be the beholder without reinforcement one day.

Guessing Games

There is a uber-fine manager in my department. He's tall, dark (Brazilian) and handsome. All the ladies go apeshit for him. He's 35, single, never been married. Dresses very nicely. Is well groomed.

There's been speculation about his sexual preference. I've been on the fence, he's doesn't talk about his personal life. All the ladies tease him about being a chic magnet. He doesn't confirm nor deny. Which is pecular, primarily because there are 3 or 4 other gay people in my department. They are pretty open, I mean they don't wear rainbows and scream Yea! I'm gay. But when they talk about their life, they don't hide the fact that their significant other is of the same sex. As they shouldn't, not like married folk do.

So anyway, I'm waiting for my plane at Hartsfield-Jackson. Who do I see? Manager. With another male friend that looked just as clean as he did. Their interaction was more akin to mine with exes than friends...if ya know what I mean.

And this brings me to a convo I had with another manager in the dept. She's been in ATL for 13 years and explained how jaded she was and felt like every other dude was DL. She was like, if a dude would push a date back to work out...he might be gay. If he takes longer to get ready than me....he might be gay. If he doesn't know sports statistics backward and forward....he might be gay. If he knows how to tuck his shirt in...he might be gay.

Ummm, I don't think I'm naive. I've called the shot wrong once, and I did some research before I pursued. However, I'm not in constant fear that every man I date is having man-butt-sex on the side.

Are there some things to be awware of? Clues that you keep your eye open to?

A lesson in vocabulary: Phelps.

Some would call it a proper noun, given that it is somebody's last name. However, I propose that Webster define it as a verb.

Phelps (phelped) (v.): To excel, to surpass expectations, to break records.

I phelped that presentation last week and as a result my boss has taken the initiative to demote herself into my former role and promote me into the boss role.

For our aniversary he completely phelped me. He ordered 12 dozen roses, cooked my favorite meal, flew me to Paris and back, ect...

Girl, I phelped him last night. I layed it down so good he slept in the fetal position.

2008 Predictions

I would like to predict that Obama's running mate will be Joe Biden.

I favored Joe Biden during one of the first democratic debates. During the initial debate, I trusted Biden's experience and his opinions. I think he's an excellent offset to Obama.

I'd also like to predict that Miracle Man might spend one of the holidays with me and my family.

Crazy

Before I recap Miami, I must break to talk about the text that I received from the ex on Friday night at 2 am. Unprovoked I receive the following:

I hate you. We could have been married. By the way I'm moving to Atlanta next week.

Me: WTF, WTF and WTF. I don't know why I engage in an argument via text, but at the time it seemed worth it.

I've concluded that I'm scared of him. He's irrational and not seeing reality.

In other news, Miracle Man is slowly but surely growing on me.